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Portrait of Geoffrey Chaucer 

From Hoccleve's De Regimine Principum, 

MS. Harley 4866, L. 91. 



SELECTIONS FROM 

CHAUCER 



EDITED BY 
WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON, Ph.D., LL.D. 

PRESIDENT OF SMITH COLLEGE, FORMERLY PROFESSOR 
OF ENGLISH IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY 

AND 
HOWARD ROLLIN PATCH, Ph.D. 

ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN SMITH COLLEGE 



m 



YK new YORK 

HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY 
1921 



,s^ 






COPYRIGHT, 1 9 21, BY 
HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY, INC. 



OCT 14 1921 



Printed in the United States of America 



g)CLA624799 






TO G. L. K. 

IN GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION 



PREFACE 

In the making of this book the editors have had in mind 
both the general reader and the student. The texts have 
been selected to represent, as fully as a volume of selections 
may, the many sides of Chaucer's genius and the variety of 
his poetic forms. The introduction is meant to supply the 
necessary background of information, and deals with the 
character of the Medieval period in general and of fourteenth 
century England in particular, the biography of the poet, 
the dates and sources of his poems, and his quality as an 
artist. A concise grammar of Middle English, a guide to 
pronunciation, and a glossary afford the foundation for a 
thorough grasp of the language. 

Skeat's text, which has been taken as a basis, has been 
collated with the reprints of the Chaucer Society, and a 
number of principles appHed, which, it is hoped, will sim- 
plify the task of the student by a greater degree of normali- 
zation without any loss of authenticity. Important changes 
from Skeat's readings, unless supported by manuscript au- 
thority, are recorded in the Variant Readings. 

It has been possible to include the large variety of Chau- 
cer's works here presented only by resorting to the omission 
of certain passages. The editors are well aware of the loss 
from the point of view of the scholar which is involved in a 
cutting of the text, however skillfully performed. For the 
exhaustive study of the poet, the present volume will, of 
course, not suffice. The problem which the editors faced 
was the quite different one of selecting as much of Chaucer's 
work as might be read in a single college course, and of making 
such a course as rich as possible. To print in full the poems 
chosen would have meant the inclusion of a smaller number 
of poems, and they were already painfully conscious of how 
much of high value had to be omitted in any case. Con- 
densation, then, seemed the lesser evil. As often as possible 
the passages omitted were those of least interest; but the 



iv PREFACE 

clarity and continuity of the plot were regarded first in de- 
termining what must be retained. 

It must be added most emphatically, however, that the 
editors do not feel that by this method of reducing the text 
it is in any sense "improved." In the Troilus, for example, 
the loss of the charming scene in the garden (Book II) with 
Antigone's song of love, and again that of the dialogue with 
Cassandra (Book V), are losses for which any gain in com- 
pactness is no ultimate compensation. No doubt, too, there 
is a loss in proportion in the poems, especially in the Hous of 
Fame, where Book I is greatly cut down. Eventually every 
one will want to read all the poems in the full form as they 
have come down to us. But for facilitating instruction in 
the ordinary college course, where some abridgment has al- 
ways been necessary, as well as for making a book of con- 
venient size, what has seemed to count most in the Chau- 
cerian tradition has been gathered together, and it is hoped 
that even in their present form the poems may be enjoyed 
for themselves. 

For the choice of contents and the treatment of the text, 
the editors are jointly responsible, as they are for all errors 
of fact and judgment. But by far the larger share of the 
labor in the preparation of the volume has fallen to Dr. 
Patch, to whom thus belongs whatever credit the book may 
earn. Professor K. S. Woodward has read the proof of the 
text and the introduction, and Mrs. Helen K. Patch has 
rendered valuable and laborious service in the preparation 
of the glossary. To both of these ladies the editors wish to 
express their warm gratitude. 

W. A. Neilson. 
Northampton, June, 192 1. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

The Introduction: — Page 
I. Chaucer's Life and Times vii 

1. The Background vii 

2. England in the Fourteenth Century xiv 

3. Chaucer's Life xvi 

4. The Chronology of Chaucer's Works xxiii 

5. Chaucer's Learning xxiii 

II. Chaucer's Literary Art xxviii 

III. The Present Text xxxvii 

IV. The Language xxxviii 

V. Bibliographical Suggestions I 

The Sounds of Chaucer 's Language lii 

The Text: 

The Book of the Duchesse i 

Thr Hous of Fame 27 

The Parlement of Foules 79 

Troilus and Criseyde 100 

WoRDES unto Adam 257 

Balade from the Legende of Good Women 258 

Trouthe 259 

Lenvoy de Chaucer a Scogan 260 

Lenvoy de Chaucer a Bukton 262 

The Compleinte to his Purs 263 

The Caunterbury Tales 264-416 

The Prologe 264 

The Kaightes Tale 286 

The Prioresses Tale 337 

The Nonne Preestes Tale 344 

The Pardoners Tale 365 

The Prologe of the Wyves Tale of Bathe 378 

The Clerkes Tale 387 

Variant Readings 41 7 

Glossary 423 

V 



THE INTRODUCTION 
I. CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES - 
I. The Background 

Chaucer lived in the latter part of the period called the 
Middle Ages, a term which is variously appHed, but which 
may be safely used to cover all the centuries of Christian cul- 
ture that preceded the Renaissance. In England the full 
development of the Renaissance does not appear until after 
1500; but long before that various signs of its coming were 
perceptible. Indeed during the late fourteenth century, in 
the active expression of discontent among the lower classes, 
which were eager to have their part of the increasing luxuries, 
in the spreading corruption among the representatives of the 
Church, in the elaboration of costume regardless of utility 
or logic, we may find evidences of that disintegration of 
Medieval manners and morals which marked the closing 
of the period. In order to comprehend intelligently the 
traditions which formed the poet's milieu it is necessary to 
attempt some characterization of the Middle Ages as a 
whole. 

This is no easy task; for, in the first place, the decades of 
the period mark changes, and the centuries have each a 
distinct individuality of their own, so that a failure to dis- 
criminate between different stages in the growth of the 
epoch is responsible for much misunderstanding of what 
constituted its life. We cannot bundle together as equally 
characteristic of Medievalism the ignorance prevalent in the 
early centuries, the early struggle against barbaric invasions, 
and the rich artistic fruition of the thirteenth century or 
the achievements in philosophy and letters. Furthermore, 
modern prejudice against tradition has led to the assump- 
tion that all features of the past which have not endured 
have necessarily been outworn and may therefore be disre- 



viii INTRODUCTION 

garded. The morbid endeavor to glean scandals from ac- 
counts of the monasteries and to ignore the virtues, the ap- 
preciation of Medieval art purely for its decorative value 
apart from its purpose, such modes of approach have not 
served the honest desire to understand the Medieval point 
of view. It is necessary to lay aside some of our modern 
intolerance and dogmatism in order to give due fairness to a 
study of what was a quite different period from the one in 
which we live. Remembering, then, the difficulty of trying 
to summarize all the centuries, a difficulty which is only 
partially met by dealing with the thought rather than with 
the events, and attempting to view the facts with candor, we 
may take up the chief phases of Medieval life according to the 
way in which the interests group themselves conveniently, — ■ 
those which are predominantly artistic, religious, or social. 

Under the heading of Artistic Production it is not too 
arbitrary to include literature. Like all of the other expres- 
sions of the artistic instinct, the literature of that time shows 
in general a passion for enhghtening mankind which fills it 
with a lofty idealism, but which sometimes leads to a sacrifice 
of proportion or a too great schematism. The long treatises 
on sin, the complicated allegories, the moral poems, illustrate 
faults of this kind; and, again, the lyrics which hymn the 
various motifs of love are a notable exception to the rule. 
On the other hand, there is a great body of Medieval litera- 
ture intended primarily for entertainment. To such a class 
belong the romances of Troy, Thebes, and Rome, and those 
of Charlemagne and of Arthur, where the artistic technique is 
almost accidental because of the lack of self-consciousness in 
the composition. Here the morality is implicit in the struc- 
ture, w^here sometimes pagan and Christian ethics collide. 
The Medieval artist was more concerned with what he was 
doing than with how it was done. It is typical that in the 
thirteenth century men were interested in the philosophy of 
the Classics, while Renaissance figures like Petrarch cared 
more about their literary form. The early painters were 
occupied with the sincere delineation of scriptural subjects; 
but as the Renaissance draws near, the emphasis on beauty is 



CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES ix 

more and more apparent. Although there is a lack of tech- 
nical experience in the early Siennese and Florentine paint- 
ings, the Blessed Virgin in some of these works is vastly more 
acceptable as the mother of Christ than in some of the more 
realistic representations of later times. 

But however much art was busied with its idealism, there 
was not a complete sacrifice of beauty; rather it was subor- 
dinated to convey the spiritual meaning. Possibly the great- 
est example of this tendency is to be found in that noblest 
embodiment of all things Medieval, Gothic architecture. 
Other forms of art, like manuscript illumination, decorated 
bindings, and the like, may have to give way before some of 
the modern accomplishments in corresponding fields; the 
glass of the cathedrals stands perhaps unique in loveliness. 
But surely the splendor and the dedication of Gothic architec- 
ture is unrivaled by anything that later ages have seen 
produced by their own draftsmen; and here the spiritual 
yearning, the exaltation, the prayer, of the Middle Ages is 
carried in the upward sweep of the lines in a structure ma- 
jestic with beauty and fervent with truth. Even the lack of 
completion of some of the buildings, the chapels still to be 
added and the towers yet unraised, expresses the spirit of 
incompleteness characteristic of the thought, the striving 
toward infinity compared with the Greek calm and finish. 

Medieval art still commends itself to our appreciation; and 
more or less successful imitations of its works constantly 
have their vogue. In some respects the Philosophy of the 
times is likely to be harder for us to understand. We think 
of the man of that period as dogmatic and intolerant, as 
closing his mind to any conception of the changes and va- 
rieties that life presents. But however arrogant his position 
may seem to us, however unintelliectual his views, he was 
fundamentally humble and logically consistent. Man, he 
thought, was too limited in experience and power, and too 
open to prejudice and self-deception, to construct in his own 
Hfe-time a religion on which he could safely depend. Even 
if he was gifted with righteousness, he was also tainted with 
weakness rendering him susceptible of evil; and if he were 



X INTRODUCTION 

forced to rely on his own observations and principles he 
might too easily see the universe simply as he wanted to find 
it. Unaided science could never leave earth; Virgil, the in- 
telligence, cannot guide Dante beyond Purgatory. Therefore 
it was reasonable to suppose that a definite revelation would 
come to mankind which would give man the truth sufficient 
for hib spiritual development. Such a revelation must come 
in a form that would allow no doubt; for otherwise the need 
of a life-long test of its claims would introduce all the difficul- 
ties found in a life without revelation. The united western 
Church testified that such a revelation had been made, and 
that its priests were consecrated to the interpretation of its 
doctrines. When it was tried this revealed religion worked 
well: it accounted for man's life and gave it significance; it 
served to control it; and it gave a seemingly valid expression 
to man's instinctive need for religious experience. 

The organized body to which this revelation had been en- 
trusted was necessarily dogmatic in the pronouncements of 
its truth. In the face of divine authority doubt had no value 
whatsoever; a heretic was simply an eccentric, and error 
must not be tolerated. Intellectual stagnation was by no 
means a concomitant of such a view; for one could build on 
the basis afforded by the knowledge of the universal scheme, 
and apply the truth to individual instances. Philosophy, 
therefore, was chiefly deductive; and science in the modern 
sense, although its Medieval successes have been often 
underrated, did not advance very far. The physical incon- 
veniences resulting, like bad roads, poor medical attention, 
and danger of various kinds, did not seem very important, 
because life after death was so much more important than 
the prolongation of life. Medieval philosophy has often been 
judged by its poorest examples; but its best form, that of 
scholasticism, gave the world the philosophy of Aristotle 
applied to Christianity and furnished thereby a more funda- 
mentally humanistic basis for life than is to be found in any 
of the Renaissance appreciation of the Classics. According to 
modern opinion, perhaps, the great thirteenth century 
philosophers like Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas 



CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES xi 

were not intellectually free inasmuch as they submitted to 
ecclesiastical dogma. The man of the Middle Ages would 
have answered that the dogma was a mere statement of the 
truth; in the words of Boethius (at the beginning of this era) : 

"For if thou rememberest of what country thou art, it is not governed 
as Athens was wont to be, by the multitude, but 'one is its ruler, one its 
king,' who desires to have abundance of citizens, and not to have them 
driven away. To be governed by whose authority, and to be subject to 
her laws, is the greatest freedom that can be." ^ 

"But the minds of men must needs be more free when they conserve 
themselves in the contemplation of God, and less when they come to 
their bodies, and yet less when they are bound with earthly fetters. But 
their greatest bondage is when, giving themselves to vices, they lose 
possession of their own reason." - 

Doubt is slavery, and the truth shall make men free. Grant- 
ing, then, the physical disabilities of the time, and granting 
even moral lapses — since the people whom the Middle Ages 
originally discovered and educated were pagans at a pretty 
low stage of moral enlightenment — it must be recognized 
that the religious fervor of the thirteenth century, which in- 
spired the artistic, philosophic, and social life, would be a 
glory to any age. 

The Church played a most intimate part in the Social 
Life of the people, because, in the first place, it was politically 
independent of, and sometimes superior to, the state, and, 
secondly, because it made its influence felt in the every day 
matters of personal activity. The Crusades gave a legitimate 
opportunity for the expression of the combative and ambi- 
tious instincts in men; the monasteries opened the way for the 
fulfillment of the desire for mystical retirement from the 
world; the guilds, which were dedicated to their tasks under 
the names of patron saints, bound the workmen together in 
mutual support and responsibility in a way that called forth 
the most conscientious work from each laborer; and the local 

1 Boethius, the Loeb Classical Library, London, 1918, the Consolation 
of Philosophy, translated by H. F. Stewart and E. K. Rand, p. 159. 

2 Ihid.y p. 371. 



xii INTRODUCTION 

churches, by their various feast-days and daily ceremonies, 
kept religious ideals strongly before the minds of the people 
not merely on Sunday but on all the days of the week. Too 
much has been made in recent times of the religious and 
social oppression of the average man. It is true that the 
lack of printing hampered education; but education was 
furnished as thoroughly as possible under the circumstances, 
and the germ of democratic ideals may be seen at least as 
far back as the Magna Charta. Although the feudal system 
prevented any realization of the principle of equal oppor- 
tunity, it served to check inordinate ambitions on the part of 
the serf to leap into the nobility in a day, and it put the re- 
sponsibility for government and social power in the hands of 
people trained for generations to its necessities. At its worst 
this feature meant the giving of power to decadent families 
with all the attendant evils; at its best it meant the preserva- 
tion of the noblest standards in art as well as society. 

The educational principle of the Middle Ages was that 
which to-day underlies and animates the Liberal Arts. In 
certain aspects it was doubtless impractical, but no more so 
than the culture of any period. Apart from literature and 
philosophy and some rudimentary science, the Bible formed 
the staple of popular knowledge, and its text was widely 
known in various forms, from scriptural paraphrases in the 
vernacular and dramatic renderings to the Vulgate itself. 
Women were often educated, as a line of celebrated ladies 
from the nun Hrosvitha to the militant Christine de Pisan 
will testify; an essentially Medieval contribution is the 
adoration of womanhood in the dolce stil nuovo of Italy, 
the service des dames of France, and the cult of the Virgin, 
which together established the tenets of chivalry towards 
women. 

To the institutions of the Middle Ages the world of to-day 
owes much. Chivalry contributed much as a civilizing force 
in ways that are not to be confused with the superficial rites 
with which it is so often identified. The discipline of the 
humanistic philosophy, which may prove to be a safeguard 
against some of the dangers of the modem world, the sincere 



CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES xiii 

religious mysticism, which we associate particularly with 
St. Francis of Assisi, and the use of art to contribute not 
merely to man's sensuous experience but to his spiritual 
welfare, are opportunities that are still open to modern life. 
In the Renaissance, features like these were abandoned only 
temporarily if at all. Philosophy, having traveled far with 
deductive logic, naturally turned to inductive research as an 
alternative, and began to test what had been previously 
taken as assumptions; the result was, in some quarters a 
rigorous readjustment in others a greater faith in the assump- 
tions than in the tests applied and the further assumptions 
that their use involved, and in general people were, perhaps, 
less confident and more certain. Science gained enormously, 
and its practical achievements drew the attention and ulti- 
mately the respect of the world. Luxuries were afforded 
thereby which brought ardent support to its undertakings. 
Through the Middle Ages the commoner may be detected 
more and more asserting his personality and demanding a 
recognition of his powers, until finally Piers Plowman cele- 
brates his virtue and he serves as a balance to the nobility and 
a corrective to the priesthood. The influence of the Church 
was gradually diminished because its representatives gave 
themselves up to the increasing corruptions of the times 
which the growth of luxury and the unmoral art induced. 
The world was occupied with material interests like explora- 
tions, inventions, added wealth and comfort. If its spiritual 
guide failed now it was because men, who had free-will, 
chose the obvious and abundant delights. But the testimony 
of the older scheme remained, and its morality at least was 
called upon when the inevitable reaction came in the period 
known as the Reformation. And if to-day we can bring our- 
selves to take counsel with tradition, it is to be hoped that 
we may look back with candid minds to some of the char- 
acteristics of the past, to the discipline, the moral responsi- 
bility, and — that finer breath of religion — mysticism, which 
flourished during the Middle Ages, and that we may find an 
application of them for our own times. Anything that con- 
tributes to a proper understanding of the day when these 



xiv INTRODUCTION 

cardinal virtues flourished seems to have its raison d'etre; 
and to such a purpose this volume may well be dedicated. 

2. England in the Fourteenth Century 

Even with the loss of Scotland at the outset, the political 
situation of England in the fourteenth century promised to 
be strong. As part of the Hundred Years' War, Edward III, 
who laid claim to the crown of France, carried on successful 
invasions marked by the Battles of Cre^y (1346) and Poitiers 
(1356); and at the Peace of Bretigny (1360), although he 
gave up his claim to the crown, he was ceded a vast expanse of 
territory including the Duchy of Aquitaine and a large por- 
tion of the country south of the Loire. After his death (1377), 
however, his successor, Richard II, was more seriously occu- 
pied with domestic difficulties in England and failed to retain 
the inherited power abroad. These difficulties included the 
results of the bubonic plague which in 1348-49 had dev- 
astated English homes, and had left few laborers to satisfy 
the needs of the country. Because of the losses incurred 
in various ways during the plagues, the lords of the 
manors desired to secure labor at its lowest terms; the 
laborers, on the other hand, being reduced in number, 
could command higher wages than ever before. The Statute 
of Laborers of 135 1, intended to fix the rates according 
to the conditions known before the plague, failed to 
reheve the tension. Revolts of the lower classes were led 
by John Ball, a socialist who wanted to abolish rank and 
property, and by Wat Tyler and Jack Straw. Conspiracy of ai 
mild type weakened the power of Richard, who might have|\ 
had the assistance of his uncle John of Gaunt but for intrigue u 
and misunderstanding. Two long truces (1390-95) kept l 
France from interfering for part of the time, and a peace ' 
which lasted twenty-five years was concluded in 1396, when 
Richard took as his second wife, Isabella, the daughter of 
Charles VI. But although Richard succeeded in keeping the 
countr}^ out of war for a while, England's possessions in 
France were diminished to merely Calais and a small strip of 



CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES xv 

territory along the coast. His rule had been somewhat 
arbitrary, the turmoil in England was too much for him, and 
after his abdication, it was left to Henry IV (1399) to win 
back the lost foreign power. 

From the close contact with France during this period and 
also from direct negotiations with the continent came some of 
the changes in social life that appear at this time. When 
Anne of Bohemia, Richard's first wife, came to London, she 
brought startling fashions which immediately pervaded 
society. These were ornaments of dress of a kind already 
familiar on the continent which prepare the way for the 
superfluous puffs and ruffs of the Renaissance. In Italy 
Boccaccio and Petrarch were evincing an interest in Greek 
and Latin, not so much for the learning as for the entertain- 
ment and artistic enjoyment to be derived; and their manu- 
scripts came into English hands. The culture from new 
universities was spreading abroad. On the other hand, in 
England from 1349 on, the education of children in EngHsh 
became more general, superseding the French that had been 
prevalent hitherto; and under Richard, with the EngHsh 
independence of the control of French culture, literature in 
the English vernacular began markedly to flourish. The 
French romances were, many of them, translated, and a 
sturdy EngHsh idiom appears in works like the allegory 
Piers Plowman. As another manifestation of English life 
came the assertion of the middle-class consciousness in the 
protestantism of Lollardry. 

Wycliffe and the Lollards launched their attack against 
the Church like the revolt of the peasants against their lords. 
They denied the authority of the Pope, declared that the 
Scriptures were a complete revelation in themselves, and 
set up their own dogmas in place of the old. Wycliffe pub- 
lished his own translation of the Bible, and spread through 
the country a group of lay preachers to disseminate his 
views. For a time he was supported by John of Gaunt, who, 
however, did little more than afford him protection, and 
could not follow him in his subversive opinions. 

In many aspects of the period one can detect, as we have 



xvi INTRODUCTION 

said, the attempt to overturn the older scheme of hfe and to 
substitute a strongly individualistic philosophy. One mani- 
festation of this change is to be found in the growing sympa- 
thy for the lower classes. Chaucer, it will be seen, introduces 
the middle classes to literature because by the latter part of 
the century they were inescapable. In the past they had 
figured in hardly more than the fabliau or the exemplum. 
Lollardry shows not merely a desire to correct the religious 
abuses of the times, but to establish what was really a totally 
different conception of the Church. The clamor of the 
peasant uprisings could not be stilled by temporary measures, 
but the cry of anarchy was intermingled. And yet the 
English people in general do not appear to have abandoned 
their old loyalties. In this respect Chaucer seems to be 
representative: he goes as far as the Lollards in religious 
sincerity (but this quality is characteristic of Dante as well) 
and nothing that he says can be construed as heretical; 
characters from the lower classes take part in the Caunterbury 
Tales, but there is no apparent desire to ignore differences in 
social station. On the whole, Chaucer and the fourteenth 
century were still Medieval. 

3. Chaucer's Life 

Among all the known facts with regard to Chaucer's career 
the most salient is that his good fortune furnished him with 
an environment which was supremely well suited to develop 
his particular kind of genius. He described the Hfe and 
manners of all ranks of society, and he was able to do it so 
concretely partly because he had the opportunity of knowing 
them all well. He himself sprang from the middle classes. 
His grandfather, Robert, was a collector of the customs on 
wines; his father, John, was a vintner who early won a posi- 
tion as attendant to the king. Like many another family 
Chaucer's was gradually making its way upward. He was 
born about 1340, and by 1357 he was in the service of the 
Countess Elizabeth, wife of Lionel Duke of Clarence, as the 
Household Accounts show, referring to an expenditure for his 



CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES xvii 

clothes. From then on he was in almost constant touch with 
royalty: in 1359-60 he traveled with an expedition to France 
under Edward III, and was taken prisoner near Rheims, 
where the king ransomed him. He earned enough confidence 
to be later entrusted to carry certain letters from Calais to 
England. In 1367 he was a "valet of the king's household," 
and as ^^dilectiis valcttus noster^^ was granted an annual salary 
of twenty marks (a little over £13 in the money of that time). 
By 1369 he was again in mihtary service in France. The 
year 1372 found him one of the king's esquires, and other 
royal favors came to him from time to time, such as the 
daily pitcher of wine granted in 1374 (later changed to an 
annuity of twenty marks). Through his entire life, in fact, he 
seems to have had opportunity to know the world at court, 
and yet his mihtary service, his travels, his duties in London, 
brought him into contact with all social classes. 

How really intimate he was with any of the royal per- 
sonages it is hard to say. The question is somewhat com- 
plicated by the fact that Chaucer was subject in part to the 
system of literary patronage: for example, the Book of the 
Duchesse was written in memory of Blanche, John of Gaunt's 
first wife, in 1369 or 1370, though the poem itself suggests 
genuinely friendly feelings for the man in black. He wrote 
a late addition to the Monk's Tale in order to include 
an account of "worthy Petro, glorie of Spayne," the father 
of John of Gaunt's second wife, Constance. To this gentle 
lady the saintly Constance of the Man of Lawe's Tale may 
be a further allusion. Certain words of advice in the Phisi- 
cien's Tale to " maistresses " "that lordes doghtres han in 
governaunce" have been taken to be directed toward Kathe- 
rine Swynford, who was a governess in the Duke's household 
and who became his third wife. Very possibly she was 
Chaucer's sister-in-law; but at any rate the passage implies 
considerable familiarity. As to what personal allusions 
should be read into such poems as the Compleynte of MarSy 
the Hous of Fame, and the Parlement of Fotdes, we remain 
practically in ignorance as yet. Various suggestions and 
interpretations have been made, but none seems to be wholly 



xviii INTRODUCTION 

satisfactory. Possibly here are to be found the results of 
royal patronage, as also in the Legende of Good Women. And 
Chaucer had some return, not only from the king but also 
from John of Gaunt, who gave him a pension of ten pounds in 
1374, and in 1377 an annuity of twenty marks more. It is 
a strange fact that John of Gaunt neglected to mention 
Chaucer in his will, but its importance may be overestimated. 
We may be sure that the poet was on terms of intimacy with 
several figures at court; his personality, however reserved, 
was calculated to win him affectionate regard from high as 
well as low. 

Chaucer's marriage, probably as early as 1366, further 
connected him with court life. From the position of domi- 
cella to the Queen, Philippa Chaucer went into the service of 
the Lancaster household, and received from that source an 
annual pension of ten pounds in 1372, and in 1373 six silver- 
gilt buttons and a "botoner" (button-hook). Further gifts 
are recorded up until 1382. Practically nothing is known of 
Chaucer's wedded life; and although his allusions to his 
fortunes in love and his experience in wedlock do not suggest 
felicity, these are often conventional jokes and need not be 
taken too seriously. After all, the bitterness in the Envoy to 
Bukton and in the remarks of the Merchant in the Caunter- 
bury Tales, even if it is read literally, is offset by the optimism 
of the Franklin discoursing on the theme of marriage. Phil- 
ippa died about 1387; and Chaucer was left, perhaps with 
two sons: Lewis and Thomas. Much of Chaucer's love- 
poetry is, of course, based merely on the conventional themes 
of his time, drawn often from French literature, which may 
have been brought more vividly to his attention by his 
interest in the affairs of court, where French influence was 
still strong even after the days of Edward III, and by his 
travels. 

His standing at court undoubtedly gave him the oppor- 
tunities to go abroad, which meant so much for the develop- 
ment of his art. His early training was fostered under 
French influence; but later, diplomatic missions took him 
also to Italy, where he went just possibly as early as 1368 and 



CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES xix 

certainly in 1372 or 1373. The chance of meeting Petrarch on 
one of these journeys he may actually have enjoyed, but at 
any rate he certainly made an extensive acquaintance with 
Italian literature, bringing back with him, no doubt, plenty of 
manuscripts of which he later made good use. His traveling 
reveals a practical abihty; for in 1372 he was commissioned 
with one James Provan and John de Mari to treat with the 
duke, citizens, and merchants of Genoa for the purpose of 
choosing an English port which the Genoese might use as a 
commercial base. In 1377 he went to Flanders on secret 
negotiations; and in 1378, with various other men, he went 
abroad to arrange a marriage between Richard II and a 
daughter of the king of France. In 1378, also, business took 
him again to Italy, where he visited Barnabo Visconti, Lord 
of Milan, and became sufficiently interested in that vivid 
gentleman to give his story later in the Monk's Tale. 

Because of this practical ability he had the chance to asso- 
ciate with other classes of his time. In 1374, when he was 
living in a house over Aldgate (one of the city gates) , he was 
appointed Comptroller of the Customs and Subsidy of wools, 
skins, and tanned hides in the Port of London. In 1376 he 
received from the king a grant of over £71, which was the 
fine imposed on a certain man who shipped wool without 
paying the duty for it. In 1382 he was also made Comp- 
troller of the Petty Customs in the Port of London, and was 
allowed to turn over the duties of that office to a deputy. In 
1385, when apparently he was living in Greenwich, he was 
made Justice of the Peace for Kent, and in the next year he 
sat in Parliament as a Knight of the Shire for the county. 
Although through a change in the political situation Chaucer 
lost his Comptrollership of the Customs in 1386, he was 
again favored in 1389 when he was made Clerk of the King's 
Works to supervise the royal properties at Westminster, the 
Tower of London, and various manors, with a salary of two 
shillings a day or about thirty-six pounds a year. For these 
tasks he was again allowed a deputy. In 1390 he was se- 
lected to be on a commission to repair the banks of the 
Thames between Woolwich and Greenwich; he managed the 



XX INTRODUCTION 

erection of the scaffolding for the jousts in Smithfield; he 
was appointed a forester of North Petherton Park, Somer- 
setshire; and he was ordered to get workmen and materials 
for the repair of St. George's Chapel, Windsor. Altogether 
his income from these duties must have been very substantial, 
and the variety of his work testifies to his efficiency in public 
employment. 

The opportunity of meeting and dealing with all sorts and 
conditions of men would be appreciated to the full by a man 
of Chaucer's temperament. Fortunately the names of a few 
of those who were his friends have come down to us. Perhaps 
it may be a son of Sir Lewis Clifford that is addressed in the 
"Lowis" of the Astrolabe, instead of a son of Chaucer as has 
ordinarily been supposed. Sir Lewis's daughter Elizabeth 
was married to Sir Philip la Vache, to whom is dedicated 
Trouthe. And when the French poet Eustache Deschamps 
sent his verses asking Chaucer to cull some of the flowers of 
French rhetoric, Clifford himself brought the poem to Eng- 
land. To this poem, beginning "O Socrates plains de philos- 
ophic" and terming Chaucer a "grant translateur," Chaucer 
perhaps responded by borrowing heavily from Deschamps for 
the Legende of Good Women. There are other names linked 
with the English poet's in various ways for which we cannot 
pause: Sir John Clanvowe and Richard Morel. To Ralph 
Strode, Fellow of Merton College, Oxford, and to John Gower 
the poet, Chaucer dedicated his Troiliis in a manner half 
flippant, half serious. In 1378, when Chaucer was in Italy, 
Gower acted for him in the capacity of attorney; and perhaps, 
when he came back, Chaucer brought a fresh manuscript of 
the Filostrato, which aroused many a discussion between the 
poets as to literary technique, and as to what Criseyde was 
in Benoit and Boccaccio and what she ought to be. A quarrel 
between Chaucer and Gower has been read into the supposed 
disparaging allusion to the Confessio Amantis in the introduc- 
tion to the Man of Lawe's prologue and into the fact that in 
later versions of the Confessio a passage praising Chaucer 
does not appear. But, at most, this exchange of courtesies 
reveals in the two poets a difference in sense of humor. 



CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES xxi 

Other items concerning Chaucer's circle of acquaintances we 
must infer from his activities: In 1375 he received the respon- 
sibility of being ward to Edmond Staplegate of Kent (and for 
his trouble received £104); in 1380 he was somehow con- 
cerned with what appears to have been a case of abduction, 
and in w^hich one Cecilia Chaumpaigne released to him all 
rights of action against him; in 1386 he testified in the Scrope- 
Grosvenor suit as to the right of Sir Richard Scrope to bear 
a certain coat of arms. 

In the miscellaneous information of this kind that presents 
itself in relation to Chaucer, one fact is especially clear. The 
events of his life are hardly more than those of the average 
man, — to-day we should say, the average business man. 
Although he had fair financial success, he went through 
difficulties that forced him to make appeals for money, as in 
the hint at the end of the Parlement, and, again, in the Envoy 
to Scogan and the Compleinte to his Purs. He was thrice 
robbed, in Kent, at Westminster, and at Hatcham, in 1390. 
How far the shifting favor of the men in power in the nineties 
could affect his fortunes is not entirely clear. Before that time 
in choosing his guildsmen for the Prologe of the Caunterbury 
Tales he was careful not to offend Mayor Brembre by taking 
any who were out of political favor. The protection of John 
of Gaunt does not stay by him apparently. In 1393 he was 
without public employment; in 1394 the king bestowed on 
him a grant of twenty pounds a year for life; in 1395 he was 
for some reason forced to make various loans; in 1398 he was 
sued. The Compleinte to his Purs of 1399 seems to have been 
responsible for the gift of a yearly sum of forty marks, and 
he was thus enabled to leave Greenwich and its "shrewes" to 
take a house in the garden of the Chapel of St. Mary, West- 
minster, near the Abbey. Here on the twenty-fifth of October, 
1400, the poet died, and he was buried in the Abbey, where in 
1556 a tomb of gray marble was erected in his memory. 

All the details of his life show that Chaucer was in many 
respects a typical figure, occupied with the normal cares and 
duties of his time. Perhaps many of the official posts came 
his way as a kind of royal patronage, from the burdens of 



xxii INTRODUCTION 

which he might occasionally be relieved by a deputy. But 
that he was versatile is evident from the manifold tasks that 
were imposed on him from which he was not relieved. Doubt- 
less many people knew him simply as an unusually able man 
of affairs who happened to have a delightful and endearing 
nature. And all the while, as a spectator, Chaucer had a 
remarkable opportunity to observe the whole of what con- 
stituted the world of his time, giving the subjects of his 
attention no impression that they were specimens under the 
glass of an analyst, but nevertheless going about with an 
active step and an inquiring eye, whether on diplomatic mis- 
sions or in the bustle of London. The pageant of life that 
moved about him was necessarily as inclusive as his own 
pilgrimage: knights and squires, monks and nuns, pardoners 
and clerks, franklins and merchants, craftsmen and ec- 
clesiasts, men and women of all types, he could know them 
all, and he was undoubtedly a good ''mixer." His "com- 
panye" was the company of all mankind. 

A word may be added as to his later reputation. Full 
appreciation of his powers from the general public naturally 
did not come in his own day, but it followed soon after with 
the testimonials of Lydgate, Hoccleve, the ''Scottish Chau- 
cerians," and others. To these writers Chaucer was a "mais- 
ter." The early printers brought out editions of his works 
together with certain spurious productions which were for a 
long time attributed to him. With the changes in the de- 
velopment of the English language the proper method of 
pronouncing Middle English was forgotten; small wonder, 
then, that Dryden found in Chaucer's verse merely the 
sweetness of a rude Scotch tune! Urry, in his edition (1721), 
suggested that many of the printed final e's should be pro- 
nounced; and this idea was carried further by the scholar 
Tyrwhitt, whose edition appeared in 1775 with a mass of 
useful information together with remarkably careful editing. 
Anything like complete understanding of Chaucer's language, 
however, did not come until the study of Professor Francis J. 
Child in 1862, "Observations upon the Language of Chaucer," 
extended and amplified by many other scholars of to-day. 



CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES xxiii 

4. The Chronology of Chaucer's Works 

The dates assigned to Chaucer's works are only approxi- 
mate. In most cases the evidence for the date is based on 
style, source, or assumed allusions to historical events. The 
following list includes only the more important works: 

1369-70. Book of the Duchesse. 

Many of the shorter minor poems, such as the A. B. C, the 
Cotnpleynte unto Pile, part of the Romaunt of the Rose, and 
the Compleynte of Mars, belong to the early period. 
1377-83. The translation of Boethius. 

Fortune, Former Age, etc. 
1378. Or possibly 1383-84. Hous of Fame. 
1381. Parlement of Foules. 
Anelida and Arcite. 
Palamon and Arcite. 
1381-84. Troiliis and Criseyde. 

Wordes unto Adam. 
1386. Beginning of the Legende of Good Women. 
1386-90. Trouthe. 

1 38 7-1400. The Caiinterhury Tales. Several of the tales were earlier 
pieces of work: e. g. the Knight's Tale (as Palamon and 
Arcite), parts of the Monk's Tale, possibly the Clerk's Tale, 
and the Second Nun's Tale. 
1391-92. Treatise on the Astrolabe. 
1394. Reworking of the Legende of Good Women. 

Lenvoy a Scogan. 
1396. Lenvoy a Bukton. 
1399. Co?npleinte to his Purs. 

Other works of Chaucer now lost are the Book of the Leoun, 
the Wrecked Engendring of Mankinde, and Origines upon the 
Maiideleyne, of which we know, in part, from the prologue of 
the Legende of Good Women and, in part, from the '^retrac- 
cioun" at the end of the Parson's Tale. 

5. Chaucer's Learning 

From Chaucer's poetry and prose it is clear that he was not 
only a close observer of life but an omnivorous reader. The 
choice of his reading was exceedingly catholic, ranging from 



xxiv INTRODUCTION 

the lighter poetry (virelays, roundels, complaints, and bal- 
lades) and romance and fabliau to long allegories and philo- 
sophical and moral treatises. He himself tells how he con- 
tinually pored over a book; and his time was not idly spent. 
That his interest was sincere can be discovered in the pains- 
taking translations like the Tale of Melibeus, a disquisition 
as ponderous as it is long, and the De Consolatione Philos- 
ophie of Boethius, and in his ready use of what he read, as in 
the mosaic of borrowed Hues in the portrait of the Duchess 
{The Book of the Duchesse) and again in the prologue of the 
Second Nun's Tale. It is because he laid up such a store of 
wisdom, from which he was always able to draw, and which 
shows how deep an impression the books made on his mind, 
that he may be fairly called learned. 

The work which had the most profound influence upon him 
was undoubtedly the Consolation of Philosophy written by 
Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius (c. 4S0-524 A. D.), who 
was a Christian consul under Theodoric the Ostrogoth, and 
who on the accusation of treason was put to death. De- 
scribing a dialogue between Dame Philosophy and the con- 
demned author waiting in prison for his death, the book 
presents Aristotelian and Platonic philosophy in order to 
justify the ways of God to man. It achieved an almost con- 
tinuous popularity down to the Renaissance; allusions to it 
and adaptations of it appear everywhere. The problems in- 
volved in the discussion aroused Chaucer's keenest interest, 
and to them he recurs again and again. Verbal echoes appear 
with remarkable frequency in his works, and sometimes he 
lifts entire sections of the argument for his purposes. A sim- 
ilarly deep, if not at all so pervasive, influence was that of the 
Divine Comedy of Dante, to which Chaucer was indebted in 
many superficial ways, but which reached furthest for him 
in his solution of the problem of fate. The Rous of Fame and 
the Parlemcnt show that Chaucer enjoyed reading Dante; 
lines in the Troilus, in the prologue of the Prioress's Tale, and 
elsewhere, show that the appeal was something more than 
simply to the imagination. 

Of a more secular type was the influence of the Roman de la 



CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES xxv 

Rose, which he translated, at least in part, and which fur- 
nished him with a great deal of material that he put to 
practical use. This thirteenth century work, originally an 
allegory of the Court of Love by Guillaume de Lorris, and 
developed by Jean de Meun as a small compendium of knowl- 
edge, served, perhaps, to lead Chaucer's attention to some of 
the authors whose writings later engrossed him. Here he 
found story, allegory, and philosophy, and borrowings from 
Alanus de Insulis, Ovid, and others. Stories of love were 
especially accessible to him in his ''owne book," Ovid's 
Metamorphoses; and he also knew and made use of Ovid's 
Heroides. 

These works gave Chaucer most of his material, but there 
are others to which he owes much. In his early work he re- 
veals that he has gained a thorough knowledge of French 
writers. Guillaume de Machaut, of the generation before 
Chaucer's, and Froissart and Eustache Deschamps of his 
own time, wrote poetry of the Court of Love vision which 
served as the model of several of his poems. So immersed was 
he in the literature of this type that this time of his appren- 
ticeship is often called his "French period." With the 
Hoiis of Fame and the Parlement of Foules, however, the 
results of his Italian journeys begin to appear. The senti- 
mentalism of Boccaccio in the Teseide and the Filostrato were 
transmuted into respectively the greatly reduced romance 
of the Knight's Tale and the greatly extended psychological 
"tragedie" of the Troihis. The Latin De Casibus Virorum 
Illustrium of Boccaccio inspired the Monk's Tale; De Claris 
MuUeribus of the same author contributed probably to the 
Legende of Good Women. From Petrarch came the Latin 
rendering of Boccaccio's story of Griselda which w^as the 
basis of the Clerk's Tale, and a sonnet of Petrarch's appears 
translated in the Troiliis. 

It is difficult to estimate with any accuracy Chaucer's 
knowledge of Latin. Presumably a man of his time might 
have had much. But he often employs a French translation 
of Latin works, as, in the case of Boethius, he leaned on the 
version attributed to Jean de Meun. He appears to have 



xxvi INTRODUCTION 

had an extensive acquaintance with Virgil's Mneid, as well as 
with Ovid, and with the twelfth century allegorist, Alanus de 
Insulis, of whose Anticlaudianus and De Planctu Natures he 
makes considerable use, and with the Somnium Scipionis 
of Cicero in the edition of Macrobius (fl. 400 A. D.) The 
story of Troy Chaucer knew chiefly from the ^neid and the 
accounts in the twelfth century French of Benoit de Sainte- 
More and in the thirteenth century Latinization of this by 
Guido delle Colonne. Apparently he did not know Greek. 

In a writer like Chaucer, who has so many undeniable 
sources for his material, a modern reader will wonder whether 
any originality is left. It is true that the range of the books 
with which he had some familiarity was astonishingly wide, 
and that he not only read but borrowed freely. But plagiar- 
ism, in a sense, was the literary fashion of his time; Des- 
champs sincerely hoped that Chaucer would dignify him by a 
few borrowings from his verse. The ancients in general were 
not passionate for novelty; they had some good stories, and 
loved to have them retold, with perhaps new color, new char- 
acterization, or new subtlety. And do we need to be re- 
minded that originality does not consist simply in the matter 
of plot? If that were the case Shakspere would suffer 
much at the hands of criticism. The Knight's Tale in plot 
and in many of the verses is Boccaccio's; but in its form as 
we have it in the Caunterhury Tales, in its changes in char- 
acterization, notably in the case of Arcite, and in its new 
language, it is Chaucer's alone. 

Many writers in French and Latin, whom we have not 
listed, contributed to Chaucer's knowledge. The culture of 
his time, from the wealth of the patristic writings to the 
lyrics and folk-tales, was well digested in his reading. Cur- 
rent romances and lays from the popular as well as from 
literary sources appear in his stories; and information of a 
scientific or pseudo-scientific character came not only from 
books, but probably from the common stock of lore of his 
day. Perhaps the most striking fact in regard to Chaucer's 
material is that it represents so many of the different literary 
types of the Middle Ages. In his works the varying forms all 



CHAUCER'S LIFE AND TIMES xxvii 

appear, such as the Court of Love vision, the shorter lyric 
forms, the moral exemplum, the lay, the romance (parodied 
and also several times honestly attempted), the fabliau, the 
mock-heroic animal epic, the allegory, the sermon, the 
treatise (moral as well as philosophical), and the tales within 
a framework. The result shows not only the scope of his 
reading, but also how thoroughly he was a man of his time. 
Like Dante he presents a synthesis of Medieval expression. 
Like Dante, again, he does not reject the conventions of his 
period, but utilizes them, in word, phrase, and form, for the 
expression of his unique genius. The Clerk's Tale remains 
the story of Griselda; but in its setting in relation to the 
Wife of Bathe's prologue it becomes a delicate and sharp 
satire. The Book of the Duchesse is a love vision; but 
as an elegy that very fact conveys a fine and caressing 
sympathy. In the Troilus the young hero still suffers the 
infidelity of Criseyde; but he and Criseyde and Pandarus are 
not Troilo, Griseida, and Pandaro, and at the end of the poem 
Troilus suffers a change of view as to his ''fate" that is not 
found in the Italian source. If ever a convention threatened 
to control Chaucer, as in the Legende of Good Women, he 
dropped the work entirely. What he alters, he does not alter 
by pressing it into a new mould, but by filling it with a new 
spirit. By watching Chaucer's intricate and composite bor- 
rowings from various sources we learn a great deal about 
Hterary art; by observing what he does with his reading 
we learn still more about genius. 



II. CHAUCER'S LITERARY ART 

Many of the values of Chaucer's Hterary work have always 
been too obvious for discursive criticism. The rich detail 
drawn from human life, the range of characterization, the 
clear glimpses of natural scenery, the kindling mellow humor, 
qualities in Chaucer like these were appreciated long before 
the American critic, Lowell, wrote his famous essay on the 
poet and apologized for venturing to add a word to the sub- 
ject. The pilgrimage to Canterbury has long stirred the 
imagination of readers. Centuries before the well-known 
Stothard painting of the group, and before William Blake 
gave his independent interpretation, a Medieval artist was 
inspired to try his hand at depicting the pilgrims in the 
Ellesmere Manuscript. "Modernizations" or translations of 
some of the tales have appeared from Dryden's day to ours. 
Indeed it seems likely that, but for the hindrance in the 
change of language, Chaucer would have remained the poet 
of the people at large as he has always been a favorite of the 
few. But much as he has been enjoyed in all periods, the full 
understanding of his genius has been growing lately with the 
increased knowledge of his methods. The study of literary 
sources is sufficiently well justified by the discoveries con- 
cerning the fund of material of which he made use. It has 
become apparent that Chaucer is not merely the student of 
human-nature or the satirical commentator, but also a 
narrative and imaginative poet of great skill and a thinker. 
The growth in the development of his art, and the ripening 
of his faculties and judgment, have become more and more 
perceptible. 

The problem of chronology is still somewhat a matter of 
doubt; but certainly one of the earliest works is the Book of 
the Duchesse, which was written in 1369 or shortly thereafter 
as an elegy for the death of Blanche, the first wife of John of 
Gaunt. It is probably to this poem that Chaucer refers in 
the prologue of the Man of Lawe's Tale, where he says, "In 



CHAUCER'S LITERARY ART xxix 

youthe he made of Ceys and Alcione." The lack of metrical 
fluency (if our manuscripts give us anything like a true ac- 
count), the rather tedious mass of details which fail to con- 
tribute a full quota to the total effect, a structural tendency 
to ramble, show the amateurishness of the work. Yet there 
are also elements of great talent. In theme the poem follows 
a strongly conventionalized type, and yet it remains fresh 
and to the point. Based on the Court of Love vision, espe- 
cially on the form developed in Machaut's Jugement dou Roy 
de Behaingne, the Book of the Duchesse is in some ways like 
hundreds of poems in Old French literature; but in one point, 
in particular, it is different, — namely, in the fact that 
it is an elegy. As in the case of the Middle English Pearl, 
the very conventionality of the form, the associations called 
up by the machinery so familiar in love poetry, indicate the 
poet's devotion to the lady who is gone. The poet recounts 
how he fell into a sleep one day after reading the story of 
Alcyone and her lament for her husband, and how he dreamed 
of the knight in black who was mourning the loss of his 
lady. A slumberous incoherence surrounds the episodes as 
they are told, which begin with the vision of a hunt, proceed 
with the aimless wandering led by the little dog, and, for no 
apparent reason except that which unites the elements of a 
dream, come to the meeting of the knight in black and the 
long dialogue in which the dreamer seems not to understand 
the drift of the knight's discourse so that he may draw him 
out and ease him of his pain. When the knight at last 
definitely repeats the fact that his lady is dead, the dream- 
er's sympathy, emphasized by the suspense, gains in climax: 
"Is that your los? By God, hit is routhe!" A notable 
feature in the poem is the description of the Duchess, which 
is a composition of lines taken from various foreign sources, 
with few original touches, and yet resulting in a picture in 
which the lady was presumably recognizable to a contem- 
porary. 

The technical advance over this poem in the Hous of Fame 
is, however, striking. The main structure of the latter is 
based, to be sure, on that of the Panther e d' Amours of Nicole 



XXX INTRODUCTION 

de Margival (of the thirteenth century), and from this 
source come the mountain home which Fame adopts, and 
many other suggestions. But the plot is much more com- 
pletely Chaucer's own, and certainly the old idea that the 
poem reflected the plan of the Divine Comedy is completely 
unfounded. Hints from the Italian begin to appear never- 
theless; the account of Dido, the eagle, and other features, 
owe much to Virgil and Dante and Boccaccio. Other in- 
debtednesses are here: the turning house of Rumor, a magical 
transformation of the whirling castles of Medieval romance, 
and reminiscent, perhaps, of certain houses of twigs which 
Chaucer may have seen in Wales, is in substance a borrowing. 
And yet the idea of such a factory of rumors is Chaucer's 
own; the humor of the educative discourse of the eagle, who 
holds his audience spellbound in his very clutches, the satire 
of the types that present themselves to Fame for her re- 
wards, the imagination displayed in the conception of such 
a realm (although here again the suggestion comes from 
Ovid) whither the speech of earth makes its way like any 
element seeking its sphere, these qualities show Chaucer 
himself, a genius at play with material over which he has a 
perfect mastery. What the chief point of the whole story is 
we do not know. The man of great authority appears, and 
we are doubtless just about to learn certain important tid- 
ings of love. Perhaps, in fact, in a manuscript which formed 
the presentation copy, the tidings were told. But for us the 
poem remains incomplete. 

And perhaps, after all, the purpose intended in this poem 
was better served by what seems to have been the next work, 
the Parlement of Foiiles. For this the De Planctu Naturce of 
Alanus de Insulis, lines from Dante describing the gate of the 
Inferno, possibly a tale concerning a lovers' debate, furnished 
the chief outlines. The satire on the English parliament of 
Chaucer's day, the characterization of the birds in a way 
that recalls certain human traits, and the portraits of the 
lovers, are original with Chaucer. Here we find a transition 
from the octosyllabics of the previous poems to the seven-line 
stanza, an imitation of the Italian ottava rima, and later 



CHAUCER'S LITERARY ART xxxi 

called "rime royal" (because of its use by James I of Scot- 
land in the Kingis Qnhair), a verse which is more fluent than 
the rollicking measure of the Hous of Fame, and which, as 
Chaucer uses it, is richer in substance and more quotable. 
Although this poem may be less of an imaginative achieve- 
ment than the Hous of Fame, it has been universally admired, 
and is the first which was afterward largely imitated. Many 
contemporary allusions have been read into its allegory: 
it has been proposed that the poem was intended to celebrate 
the match of Richard II and Anne of Bohemia, or again that 
it dealt with the attempted betrothal of Richard with Philippa 
Lancaster, John of Gaunt's daughter. But all the suggestions 
so far are open to serious question. 

With the French influence strong hitherto, and with the 
Italian contributions affecting the Hous of Fame and the 
Parlement more and more directly, Chaucer's full maturity 
arrives with the complete treatment of an Italian theme in 
the Troilus. This poem, consisting of more than eight 
thousand lines, is a modified translation of Boccaccio's 
// Filostraio, itself an adaptation of a story familiar in the 
Roman de Troye of Benoit de Sainte-More and in the Latin 
rendering of Guido delle Colonne. Chaucer's additions, 
amounting to almost a third of the poem, include philosophy 
from Boethius and a supply of motivation for the characters. 
Pandarus is older than his prototype in the original, and 
Criseyde more complex than hers. In both versions Troilus 
proceeds as a typical hero of the Court of Love; but the 
interpretation of his tragedy is different. In Chaucer he 
blames Fate or Fortune for what occurs, he takes great pains 
to expound his self-pitying philosophy, but at the end a 
passage is borrowed from Boccaccio's U Teseide to describe 
his flight through the spheres to a pitch of enlightenment 
where he sees that his own folly was the cause of his disaster 
and that his troubles are not so grave as he had supposed. 
The story is told in the manner of a drama with climax and 
catastrophe, and in the end, as a relief and solution, a re- 
markably detached mood is introduced, original with Chau- 
cer, to give the setting of the story its proper irony, by which 



xxxii INTRODUCTION 

it attains a far wider significance. The Court of Love, all the 
fuming and fussing of lovers, much of human turmoil in 
general, is the subject of laughter against the background of 
the universe and eternity. Criseyde, who wished to stay 
herself at least by fidelity to Diomede, and Diomede himself 
''making hay while the sun shines," ladies and lovers, fate 
and Troy, all are trivial ; all shall pass. The eternal things are 
those to which we must hold fast. The poem closes with a 
moral warning, a dedication (not made too solemnly), and a 
prayer. It may be maintained that in this poem too little of 
the atmosphere of Greece and Troy is introduced, that 
Troilus is a Medieval kmght, and that the scenes are those of 
the fourteenth century. While there is truth in this, the 
fault is not primarily Chaucer's; for similar anachronisms 
were allowed in literature until a much later period. 

Pandarus, Troilus, and Criseyde are characterizations not 
of the fourteenth century alone but of all time. In the ripe- 
ness of their art they anticipate some of the best figures of the 
Caunterbury Tales. . But Chaucer did not wholly sustain this 
level in the works that followed. Having experimented in a 
new verse-form, the decasyllabic couplet, in the Palamon and 
Arcite (the Knight's Tale before it was put into the group), 
he returned after using the seven-line stanza of the Troilus 
to another venture in decasyllabics with the Legende of Good 
Women. Here the Court of Love vision, employed thrice 
before in different ways in his poems, served as the framework 
for a collection of stories about ladies who were martyrs in 
love like saints who were martyrs to the faith of the Church. 
The parallelism between the conventions of love and of the 
Church had been the scheme for many secular poems in 
European literature; the commandments, the ritual, and the 
relics were familiar as literary formulae. Now a collection of 
'' Saints' legends of Cupid" was to be made. Theoretically 
the idea was a good one; it offered pleasant satirical possibil- 
ities. Beginning with the light and charming verse of the 
Prologue (which introduces the Balade of fair ladies) some 
zest for the undertaking is apparent in the initial effort. But 
either the monotony of the task, which required story after 



CHAUCER'S LITERARY ART xxxiii 

story of the same general type, wearied Chaucer; or else the 
far greater resources in the scheme of the Canterbury pil- 
grimage lured his interest away. In any case he let the theme 
drop (in the form known as Prologue B, with the stories about 
as we know them) ; and later (after working on the introduc- 
tion to the Man of Lawe's Tale) he took it up again (in the 
form of Prologue A),- reminded perhaps of its possibilities, 
but again he lost interest. 

The variety of literary opportunity in the Caunterbury 
Tales is, of course, clear enough. According to the difference 
in the pilgrims there must be stories for every taste. And 
the appeal is similarly varied. The power of criticism of 
life in every rank of society, the sympathy with all that is 
called human, whether good or bad, the relish for every 
activity that engages man, this universality is a distinguishing 
mark of Chaucer's greatness at this point in his career. All 
types fare equally wtU in his estimation. The scoundrel is not 
exonerated, but he may be personally liked, even loved; the 
virtuous have their faults that make them more approachable; 
even Chaucer must come down from his high horse and tell 
another story more suitable to the company (they hope) than 
his first. The Prioress, gentle Madame Eglantine, as dainty 
as any heroine of romance, will count her beads, however 
devotedly, only to reach the brooch inscribed ''Amor vincit 
omnia." As in Medieval romance, too, it is always the best 
of every class, of every kind, whether knight, ecclesiast, or 
artisan, that happens, by a miracle of good luck, to be travel- 
ing on this pilgrimage. The figures in the Prologe are usually 
typical, except in the case of some of the broader characteri- 
zations where the features are picked out with Diirer-like 
detail ; but in the drama of the links between the stories the 
characters become individual. In the execution of this plan 
Chaucer exceeds all the framed collections of stories of his 
time: the Confessio Ammttis, the Seveii Sages, the Decameron, 
and even the Novelle of Sercambi (where there is a similar 
pilgrimage and some characterization). The tales ^vith 
Chaucer become a Human Comedy, in which the Pardoner 
confesses to the tricks of his trade and, for a change, exalts 



xxxiv INTRODUCTION 

true piety, and in which the Wife of Bathe takes her fling at 
the demure Clerk, who, in turn, shows that his philosophy is 
not without the salt of humor. The gusto with which the 
tales proceed (we are in them before we know it), the splendor, 
the riotous joy of living with that company, embody the 
vitality of "merry England." But much as the poet enters 
into the delight of the journey, Chaucer the ironist is never 
absent. We cannot miss the dramatic irony of the long 
debate between Palamon and Arcite as to their rights in the 
love-affair which is opposed to their sworn friendship, or 
that of the knight who mourns his freedom while his brother 
laments that he is in prison, or that of the solemn and lonely 
fight in the forest for a lady who is totally unaware of the 
devotion of either suitor. Boccaccio's // Teseide, here greatly 
reduced, is no longer the lacrimose tragedy of Arcite. Or, to 
take another instance, we may remember the three rioters of 
the Pardoner's Tale who go in search of Death in order to kill 
him, and when they meet him at last they are only too 
obsequious about obeying his directions, unconscious who 
he is. 

The tone of the stories varies from earnest to game, from 
poetry to grim prose. Many themes of vice and virtue are 
dwelt upon, themes of love and marriage, worldliness and 
piety. The Wife of Bathe starts the ball rolling down a long 
course of discussion on the subject of woman's position in the 
world and of the estate of wedlock. The topic of woman's 
counsel, whether it is harmful or beneficial, had already been 
in the air, and it led naturally to this. Now the Wife of Bathe 
takes her turn to insist on mastery for woman and plenty of 
wedlock. In varying ways she is answered by the Clerk, 
who shows that patient Griselda was a somewhat extreme 
type, by the Squire, who treats of romantic love, by the Mer- 
chant, who reveals a bitter disillusionment as to the glamor of 
love, and by the Franklin, who concludes that man and wife 
must each have mastery and that wedlock is, after all, a 
blessed condition. 

But great as is the range of appeal in the subject-matter of 
the tales, they also show a variety in skill. Some of them were 



CHAUCER'S LITERARY ART xxxv 

obviously written early, like the Man of Lawe's Tale, the 
Monk's Tale (with later additions), and the Tale of the 
Second Nun. From the sentimental pathos of the succession 
of tragedies in the Monk's Tale, appropriate to the luxury- 
loving Monk with his furred wrists, jingling bells, and genuine 
concern only for worldly matters, the pilgrims ask to be de- 
livered, led by the only fit spokesman for such a protest, the 
Knight. These early tales are rather slight in material, 
compared, say, with the rich mock-heroic of the Nun's 
Priest's Tale or with the abundant humanity of the Wife of 
Bathe's Prologue. And their thinness is not due to the fact of 
their being religious in cast; for Chaucer shows his power 
in eloquent morality in Trouihe and in lyric piety in the 
Prioress's Tale. There is some indication that the tales 
were not all originally assigned to the speakers who now 
have them. Thus it is possible that the Melibeus first be- 
longed to the Man of Lawe, who says that he speaks "in 
prose" and who might be expected to be somewhat argu- 
mentative; at present, however, it is Chaucer's lengthy retort 
to the pilgrims' dislike of Sir Thopas. The best of the stories 
seem to have been written with their tellers in mind, like 
those of the Pardoner, the Franklin, and the Canon's Yeo- 
man. The Pardoner's Tale, even apart from its setting as an 
exemplum in a homily, is a masterpiece of narrative skill. 
Its simplicity and directness, its swift conclusion, are worthy 
of admiration. Some of the tales Chaucer never finished, 
specifically those of the Cook and the Squire. For the Cook 
he was obviously preparing a fabliau; the loss of the rest of 
the Squire's Tale (which Spenser supplies in the Faerie 
Queene) is regrettable, but the fragment, like Kubla Khan, 
gains in romantic charm by leaving much to the imagination. 
The grouping of the stories as a whole shows a certain lack of 
finish. But it was evidently never intended to be managed 
with any view to climax (except, perhaps, in the Marriage 
Cycle); climaxes arrive according to the subjects that ob- 
viously most engaged the enthusiasm of the poet. The last 
tale of all is the least impressive, that of the Parson, not in 
any sense a story but a sombre moral treatise without artistic 



xxxvi INTRODUCTION 

relief; it has some interest, however, from the fact that it is 
concluded by a Retraction in which Chaucer apologizes for 
his worldly poems. The scheme of the Cauntcrhury Tales 
itself was left unfinished: the pilgrims fail to tell their full 
number of stories; some of them, in fact, do not have any 
turn at all. It remained for other poets, like Lydgate in his 
Story of Thebes, to add further contributions. The most 
remarkable work done in Chaucer's vein, however, has noth- 
ing to do with this group; it is the continuation of the Troilus 
by the Scottish poet Henryson in his Testament of Cresseid. 

Like all Chaucer's works, the Caunterbury Tales derive 
from literary sources. The legend which formed the basis of 
the Prioress's Tale was well known in various forms; the 
story of Chaunteclere goes back through different versions to 
the cycle of animal epics which formed such a great body of 
literature in Europe; the Pardoner's Tale traces its beginnings 
to the Orient; and the tale of Patient Griselda, reworked in 
Latin by Petrarch from the Italian of Boccaccio, was Euro- 
pean literary property. But the procession of vividly human 
beings that makes its way toward the shrine of Becket, the 
variegated throng of fourteenth century England that forms a 
part of English literary tradition, in which Harry Bailly still 
does business at the Tabard, and the Wife of Bathe is worthy 
to be mentioned along with characters like Falstaff, all this 
Chaucer created. It may be that some of the traits of the 
pilgrims were drawn from living people of Chaucer's day; 
that a contemporary might have laughed to recognize a 
familiar figure in the Cook or the Summoner. But the spirit 
of the English people infuses them all, interpreted with 
warm humor by the poet. And not only the creation of this 
friendly company is Chaucer's, but also the artistic skill and 
the poetry of their stories (which is evident in conception if 
not in figurative ornament of speech), whereby the monoto- 
nous and dreary, the pietistic, the sentimental, or qualities 
even less desirable in the sources, become transformed and 
gain genuine and wholesome significance. 



III. THE PRESENT TEXT 

The basis of the text of the present edition is that of the 
Reverend W. W. Skeat, published by the Clarendon Press, 
Oxford, 1 894- 1 900, modified by a collation with manuscript 
readings which are accessible in the Chaucer Society prints. 
Since it is impossible to discover the exact Chaucerian forms 
and wording, it has seemed justifiable to normaUze the text 
somewhat with a view to making it easier for the beginner in 
Middle English. For instance, the common forms had, did, 
eek, and whan, are always used except when the final e 
(hadde, dide, eke, whanne) is metrically desirable; evere 
and nevere are regularly so spelled; the present participle 
and the gerund in most cases take a final e only at the end of 
a fine; some effort has been made to establish normal forms for 
the imperative singular of the verb; words which are nor- 
mally entitled to a final e by the evidence of rime (unless this 
is ambiguous) are always so spelled. Of these alterations it 
was discovered that a large number were supported by manu- 
script readings, and only the exceptional cases are recorded in 
the list of variants in the back of the book. Some features of 
the change may seem arbitrary: as, for instance, the use of 
the form out when it appears as a preposition, and of the 
form oute when it functions as an adverb. But the changes 
are in general slight, and it is hoped that the gain in con- 
sistency will render the text easier for the student and average 
reader to comprehend. For every modification the standard 
has always been the accepted Chaucerian grammar. 

The choice of the poems for the present edition, and the 
abridgment of the text have already been discussed in the 
Preface. The Skeat numbering of the lines is given at 
the foot of each page so that students may consult the notes 
of the larger edition. 



IV. THE LANGUAGE 

1. The dialect used by Chaucer is that of the East Midland 
district together with some Kentish forms. In general the 
inflectional system is like that of modern English. But it is 
complicated somewhat by the survival of certain Anglo- 
Saxon forms, by some of the Anglo-Saxon endings reduced to 
final unaccented e, by forms taken over from the Old French 
with final e's, and by a few final e's which do not seem to be 
historically justifiable. In the preservation of such forms 
Chaucer keeps to a standard slightly conservative in com- 
parison with the spoken language of his time, probably for 
the increased facility that it contributed to solving metrical 
problems and for the liquid quality gained thereby in the 
verse. 

Nouns 

2. The normal declension of the noun is as follows: 





Sing. 


Pki. 


N. D. A. 


dom nonne 


domes nomies 


Gen. 


domes nonnes 


domes nonnes 



3. The stem of nonne has a final e, which appears in the 
nominative singular. This ending is found: in nouns where 
the Anglo-Saxon nominative singular ended in a vowel, like 
nonne from A. S. nunne ; in nouns derived from A. S. feminines 
(of which the oblique cases ended in e), like lore from A. S. 
lar; and in nouns which had a final e in Old French, like 
grace, loye. In a few other cases, like hewe from A. S. heow 
(neuter) , or like travaile from O. Fr. travail, an " unhistorical " 
or "inorganic" final e appears for which full explanation is 
still lacking. 

4. A few survivals from an A. S. genitive singular appear 
which in Middle English have no ending: fader soule (fader 
here means "father's," coming from the A. S. r-declension) ; 



THE LANGUAGE 



XXXIX 



lady grace ("lady's," coming from the A. S. weak declen- 
sion with a genitive in -an). Proper nouns ending in s 
appear without the genitive ending: Epicurus owne sone. 
A few Old Fr. words also lack the ending: your heritage 
right. 

5. In certain stereotyped phrases a final e survives from 
the A. S. dative, forming in Middle English what is sometimes 
called the " petrified dative ": on l3rve; in toune; in honde. 
This dative e sometimes appears in other phrases, where it 
was probably taken over by analogy: in the fyre (on fyre, 
petrified dative). 

6. The plurals sometimes end in s instead of es : naciouns, 
daungers. Nouns ending in s usually add no plural ending: 
caas, paas, vers. Some nouns take plurals in -en from the A. 
S. weak declension, like eyen, asshen, been; and by analogy 
with these are formed children, doughtren, sustren. There 
are some plurals without ending, like hors, yeer, from A. S. 
neuters; and some nouns form their plurals by umlaut, like 
men, feet, as in A. S. 

Adjectives 

7. As in modern German there are two declensions for 
adjectives, the strong and the weak. These are declined as 
follows: 

Strong Sing, yong swete 

Plu. yonge swete 

Weak Sing, yonge swete 
Plu. yonge swete 



8. Some adjectives, like swete, have a final e in the singular 
of the strong declension because in A. S. they ended in a vowel 
(A. S. swete), or because they were derived from Old Fr. 
adjectives with final e (like contraire). A few adjectives take 
an e in Middle English which (like longe) in A. S. or (like 
comune) in O. Fr. ended in a consonant. Lyte and muche 
retain the e from A. S. lytel and mycel. 



xl INTRODUCTION 

9. The weak declension of the adjective may be used 
under the following circumstances: 

(a) When the adjective is used substantively: the beste, by weste. 

(b) When it is preceded by the definite article or a demonstrative: 

the yonge sonne. 

(c) When it is preceded by a noun or pronoun in the genitive case: 

his halve cours. 

(d) When it modifies a noun in the vocative: O blake nyght. 

(e) When it modifies a proper name: faire Venus. 

10. Survivals from the A. S. are found in the adjective: in 
the dative e (A. S. -um) of the strong declension in certain 
phrases, like of evene lengthe, in warme wex; and in the 
strong genitive plural form aller, alder, or alther (A. S. 
ealra). From O. Fr. comes a plural ending in es: places 
delitables. 

11. The comparative of the adjective ends in er(e): 
gretter, ferre (contracted), from gret, fer. The superlative 
ends in est inflected as este : the frendlyeste. 

12. Occasionally as in A. S. the comparison of adjectives 
shows umlaut: as in long, lenger; old, elder. Irregularity 
appears in certain comparisons: as good, and better, bettre, 
or bet; muche(l) and more or mo; lyte(l) and lasse or 
lesse. 

Adverbs 

13. The adverb ends normally in e: e. g., sore, smerte. 
Sometimes the e is not found in the A. S. original: as here 
(A. S. her). Some adverbs do not take a final e: as ful, 
streyght, y-wys. 

14. The comparison of the adverb is like that of the ad- 
jective: more, lengere, ferther. Also note the irregular 
forms: bet, mo, lasse. The superlative ends in est, which 
after a definite article may take an e : the moste free. 

Pronouns 

15. The Personal Pronoun of the First Person has two 



THE LANGUAGE xK 

forms for the nominative singular: I and ich. Otherwise the 
forms are like those of modern English. 

1 6. The Second Person has the following forms in the 
singular: thou (nom.), thy, thyn (gen.), thee (dat., accus.); 
and in the plural it has: ye (nom.), your (gen.), you (dat., 
accus.). 

17. In the Third Person the declension is as follows: 

Sing. Plu. 





Masc. 


Neut. 


Fern. 




N. 


he 


hit 


she 


they 


G. 


his 


his 


hir(e), her(e) 


hir(e), her(e) 


D. 


him 


him 


hir(e), her(e) 


hem 


A. 


him 


hit 


hir(e), her(e) 


hem 



18. The following forms appear of the Possessive Pro- 
nouns: — in the singular: (first person) my, myn, (second per- 
son) thy, thyn, (third person) his (m. n.), hir(e), her(e) 
(fem.); in the plural: (first person) our(e), (second person) 
your(e), (third person) hir(e), her(e). The forms myn and 
thyn of the first and second persons respectively are usually 
employed before vowels. The final e of hire, here, oure, 
youre, hire, here (plural), appears chiefly in the predicate 
use. 

19. The Demonstrative Pronouns are inflected as follows: 

Sing, this that 

Plu. this(e), thes(e) tho 

A survival from an old dative singular is found in the phrase 
for the nonys (A. S. for })sem anes). 

20. Of the Interrogative Pronouns, which is inflected when 
it is used as an adjective: of whiche two, the whiche day. 
Other pronominal forms show inflection: al, bothe, self, 
swich, are sometimes declined like adjectives. 

Verbs 

21. In order to understand the conjugation of verbs 
properly, a distinction must be recognized between weak 
verbs, which form their preterit by adding d or t, and strong 



xlii 



INTRODUCTION 



verbs, which lack a special preterit ending of this kind, buti 
which indicate the change in tense by a shift in the root! 
vowel. Some forms of this vowel-shift show a variety ofi 
sound-change known as "ablaut" or "vowel-gradation." j 
22. The different types of ablaut or vowel-gradation in; 
A. S. may be classified in six principal groups. In the follow- j 
ing table it will be seen that there is a tendency in Middle i 
English to drop some of the variations; the preterit singular ; 
and plural are often identified (except for the endings). New \ 
forms are introduced, however, which complicate the scheme 
somewhat, and only the chief forms will be indicated here. 









Class I 




A. S. 
M. E. 


Infin. 

i 
ride(n) 


Pret. sing. 
a 

TQd 


Pret. plu. 
i 
ride(n) 


Past Partic. 
i 
liden 



So agnse, bide, bite, glide, shine, shrive, etc. 



Class II 



A. S. eo 


ea 


u 6 


M. E. f 


^ 


§ (from the sing.) q 


bfde(n) 


b§d 


b§de(n) bgden 



So ch^se, crepe, elf ve, etc. Sometimes forms in i or ou appear in the 
present from A. S. eo -|-g or A. S. u respectively. 







Class III 




A. S. e, i 
M. E. e,i 

helpe(n) 


a 

a, 6 
halp 


u 

6,u 

h61pe(n) 


u,6 
6, u 
holpen 


binde(n) 

(i lengthened 
before nd) 


bond 


bounde(n) 

(u lengthened 
before nd; 


bounden 

(u lengthened 
before nd; 


drinke(n) 


drSnk 


ou=ii.) 
dronke(n) 

(o=u) 


ou =u.) 
dronken 

(o=u) 



So swelle, kerve, breste, winne, spinne, beginne, etc. 



THE LANGUAGE xliii 

li . Class IV 

A. S. e se sb 6 

M. E. t a § 9 

b§re(n) bar bfiefn) bgren 

baren 

To this class belong stfle, shf re, hf le, brf ke, spf ke, etc. Two verbs 
of this class are especially irregular : 

come(o=u) com (cam) come(n) come(o=u) 
nime nam (nom) n6me(n) nomen(o=u) 

Class V 

A. S. e « 3b e 

M. E. f a a, § f 

gf te gSt g§ten 

yfve yaf yave(n) yfven 

fte eet fte(n) ften 

To this class belong wrfke and (with i and a double consonant in the 
present) bidde, sitte, ligge. Sfn is irregular: 

Sfn saugh 

saw 
seigh 

say, sey seye(n) seyn, seye 

sy sye(n) 

Class VI 

A. S. a 6 6 Sl 

M. E. a 9 9 a 

take t9k t9ke(ii) taken 

So wake, bake, forsake, shake, shape, etc. Irregular verbs belonging 
to this class include the following: 

st6nde(n) stpd st9de(n) stonden 

drawe(n) drough drowe(n) drawen 

laughe(n lough laugh en 

sw§re(n) swor sw9re(n) sw9m 

23. A seventh class of strong verbs is formed from verbs of 
which the preterit tense-stems were once reduplicated: in A. S. 
these reduplications were lost, apparently by contraction. 



xliv INTRODUCTION 





Class VII 




sl?pe(n) 


slfp 


slfpe(n) 


slfpen 


w?pe(n) 


wep 




WQpen 


hQlde(n) 


held 


h#lde(n) 


hglden 


falle 


fel (fill) 


fille 


falle 


hQte 


het 




hgten 



In general the characteristic of this class is the appearance of the same 
vowel in the present (infin.) and the past participle, and e or ew in the 
preterit. 

24. Sometimes verbs which once were strong have become 
weak or have weak forms in Middle English. For example: 
lese (class II), pret. loste; hfle (class IV), pret. h^led; fare 
(class VI), pret. ferde, p. p. fared (beside the strong faren) ; 
slepe (class VII), pret. slepte (also the strong slep); hgte 
(class VII), pret. highte (also an old strong preterit hight — 
A. S. hlht — which serves as a present). 

25. The weak verbs fall into two classes: 
Class I 



Infin. 


Pret. 


Past Partic. 


-e(n) 


-ed(e) 


— ed 


love(n) 


loved(e) 


loved 



So were, herie, dere, clepe, make, etc. Verbs from O. Fr. are 
usually conjugated according to this class. 

Class II — e(n) — d(e), — t(e) — d, — t 

herefn) herde herd 

So also fede, lede (with pret. ledde or ladde), sette (with pret. sette), 
etc. To this class also belong verbs which in A. S. had umlaut in the 
present stem but not in the preterit: 

telle tolde told 

strecche straughte straught 

reche raughte 

seke soughte sought 

Irregularities are found in this class: dreme and seme have preterit and 
past participle like those in class I; deme and fele have past participle 
in — ed. 



Indie. Sing. 




Plu 


I. speke love 




I. 2. 3. speke(n) 


2. spekest lovest 






3. speketh loveth 






Subj. I. 2. 3. speke 


love 


I. 2. 3. speke(n) 



THE LANGUAGE xlv 

26. The conjugation in the present indicative and in the 
present subjunctive is the same for both strong and weak 
verbs: 



love(n) 



love(n) 

In the third person singular the ending is frequently — th : and 
sometimes the form is contracted: e. g., setteth ► set; rideth 
> rit. A third person singular ending in es is occasionally 
found: e. g., telles. 

27. In the preterit indicative the conjugation of strong 
verbs differs from that of weak verbs thus: 

Strong Weak 

Sing. I. spak fond loved(e) herde 

2. spak(e) found(e) lovedest herdest 

3. spak fond loved(e) herde 
Plu. I. 2. 3. spake(n) founde(n) lovede(n) herde(n) 

In A. S. the second person singular of the strong verbs has 
the radical vowel of the plural; but in M. E. it often takes that 
of the first and third persons singular by analogy. 

28. The preterit subjunctive of strong verbs is formed on 
the stem of the preterit plural indicative; that of weak verbs 
has the stem of the preterit indicative: 

Strong Weak 

Sing, spake founde lovede herde 

Plu. spake(n) founde(n) lovede(n) herde(n) 

29. The imperative of strong verbs takes no ending in the 
singular, and, in the plural, -e or -eth or no ending; that of 
weak verbs sometimes takes -e in the singular and -e or -eth 
or no ending in the plural: 

Strong Weak 

Sing. tak make werk 

Plu. taketh maketh werketh 



xlvi 



INTRODUCTION 



30. The infinitive ends in -e or -en. Stems ending in a 
vowel often simply have -n: e. g., sen, goon. Some cases of 
an inflected infinitive or of the survival of the gerund from 
A. S. appear in such phrases as to sene, to done. 

31. The present participle ends in -ing(e). The final e is 
usually sounded only at the end of a verse. 

32. The past participle of strong verbs ends in -e(n) ; of 
weak verbs, in -ed, -d, or -t. (see § 25). Frequently the prefix 
y (from the A. S. ge) appears: y-taken, y-sought. 

33. Preterit-present verbs have a somewhat irregular 
conjugation. These verbs were originally formed from the 
preterit tense of strong verbs which, in that tense, had come 
to have a present meaning. Thus A. S. wat (from the strong 
verb witan, class I, ''to pay heed to," ''to see") means "I 
have learned," "I know." For these verbs a new preterit 
was created on the basis of weak verbs, and a new second 
person singular (in the present indicative) from the present 
(former preterit) stem. 

34. These verbs may be classified according to the types of 
strong verbs from which they came: 



Class I 


A. S. witan 


M. E. wite(n) 




Sing. 


Plu. 


Pres. indie. 


1. WQt I 

2. WQSt 
3- WQt 


2. 3. w[te(n), WQte(n) 


Preterit 


1. "waste I. 

2. wistest 

3. "wiste 


2. 3. wLstein) 




A. S. agan 


M. E. owe(n) 


Pres. indie. 


1. owe I 

2. owest 


. 2. 3. owe(n) 




3. owe 




Preterit 


oghte 


1 


Class III 


A. S. cunnan 


M. E. conne(n) 


Pres. indie. 


1. can I 

2. canst 

3. can 


. 2. 3. conne, can 


Preterit 


couthe, coude 





THE LANGUAGE xlvii 

A. S. Jjurfan 
Pres. indie. 3. thar 
Preterit thurfte 

A. S. durran M. E. durre 
Pres. indie, i. dar i. 2. 3. dar dorr, 

2. darst 

3. dar 
Preterit dorste 

Class IV A. S. sculan 

Pres. indie, i. shal i. 2. 3. shul, shulle(n), shal 





2. Shalt 




3. shal 


Preterit 


sholde, shulde. 


Class V 


A. S. magan M. E. mowe(n) 


Pres. indie. 


I. may i. 2. 3. mowe, may 




2. may St 




3- may 


Preterit 


myghte 


Class VI 


A. S. motan 


Pres. indie. 


I. mot I. 2. 3. m6te(n) 




2. moste 




3. mot 


Preterit 


moste 



35. Other irregular verbs include be, wil, do, go, and have, 
which are conjugated as follows: 



(a) 





Sing. 


Plu. 


Pres. indie. 


1. am 

2. art 

3. is 


I. 2. 3. b?(n) bfth arn 


subj. 


I. 2. 3. b? 


I. 2. 3. bfn 


imper. 


b? 


bfth 


Pret. indie. 


1. was 

2. wfre 

3. was 


I. 2. 3. wfrefn) 


subj. 


I. 2. 3. wfre 


I. 2. 3. wfre (n) 


Past partie. 


been 





xlviii 



INTRODUCTION 



(b) Pres. indie. 



subj. 
Pret. indie. 



subj. 
imper. 
Preterit 

(e) Pres. indie. 



subj. 
Pret. indie. 



Imper 



subj. 
Past partie. 

(c) Pres. indie, i. 



subj. 
Pret. indie. 



Imper. 
(d) Pres. indie. 



wil, wol 

wilt, wolt 

wil, wol 

2. 3. wil(e), wol(e) i 

wolde I 

woldest 

wolde 

wolde 

wold 



I. 2. 3. wil(e)(n), wol(e)(n) 



wil(e), wol(e) 
wolde (n) 



dp 

dQSt 

dpth 
2. 3. dp 
did(e) 
didest 
did(e) 



1. gQ 

2. gQSt 

3. gQth 

I. 2. 3. gQ 

gQ 

(wente, yede) 

1. have 

2. hast 

3. hath 

I, 2. 3. have 

1. had(de) 

2. haddest 

3. had(de) 
hav(e) 



I. 2. 3. dpn 



I. 2. 3. doon 
I. 2. 3. dide(n) 



dpth 
I. 2. 3. gQ(n) 



I, 2. 3. ggn 
gOth 



I. 2. 3. han, have 



I. 2. 3. have 
I. 2. 3. hadde(n) 



haveth 



36. From this grammatical outline the forms in which 
final unaccented e are justified may be determined. The 
student must bear in mind, however, that only the more 
customary forms are cited, and that there are numerous 
irregularities of which we cannot here take account but which 
must be studied in relation to their context. Furthermore, it 
is necessary to remember that not all of the justifiable final 



THE LANGUAGE xlix 

e's are to be pronounced. Those which occur at the end of a 
verse are almost always sounded; but within the line the needs 
of the measure are the determining factor. For instance, 
final e in adjectives of more than two syllables is usually not 
sounded. In general final e is usually elided before vowels 
or "weak h" (as in he, her, hadde, here, etc., or the 
French h in honour, humblesse, etc.). A table giving the 
quality of the sounds in Chaucer's language will be found on 
the page facing the text; and in the text itself the final e's 
which are printed but which are probably not to be sounded 
are indicated by a dot beneath the letter. The dotting of the 
e's, however, is not intended to impose restrictions on the 
reader, but is purely advisory. 



V. BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 

1. Bibliography: 

E. P. Hammond, Chaucer: A Bibliographical Manual, N. Y., 1908. 
J. E. Wells, A Manual of the Writings in Middle English, 1050-1400, 

New Haven, 1916, pp. sggff., 866ff. Also the First Supplement, 

New Haven, 1919, pp. 994ff., 10275. 

2. Editions: 

Rev. W. W. Skeat, The Complete Works of Geoffrey Chaucer, in six 

volumes, Oxford, 1 894-1 900. 
Rev. W. W. Skeat, The Student^s Chaucer, in one volume, Oxford 

University Press. 
Pollard, Heath, Liddell, and McCormick, The Works of Chaucer, 

the Globe Edition, in one volume, Macmillan and Co. 

3. Criticism: 

T. R. Lounsbury, Studies in Chaucer, in three volumes, N. Y., 1892. 

G. L. Kittredge, Chaucer and his Poetry, Cambridge, 1915. 

E. Legouis, Geoffrey Chaucer, translated by L. Lailavoix, London, 

1913. 
R. K. Root, The Poetry of Chaucer, Boston, 1906. 



i 



SELECTIONS FROM CHAUCER 



THE SOUNDS OF CHAUCER'S LANGUAGE 

The Vowels: 

a like a in father e. g,, bathed. 

a like a in German man that. 

f (close) like a in name swete. 

^ (open) like e in there heeth. 

e like e in met hem. 

i (y) like the i in machine ride, ryde. 

i (y) like i in pin his, dyde. 

9 (close) like o in note roote. 

9 (open) like a in all everychon. 

6 like o in not, hot croppes. 

u (ou, ow, o) like oo in moon droghte, f owles, flour. 

u (o) like u in full ful, Sonne. 

ii like ii in French user vertu. 

Final unaccented e was pronounced like a in about: e. g,, sonne. 

The Diphthongs: 

ai (ay), ei (ey) like ay in day or ei in veil day, wey. 

au (aw) like ou in house draughte. 

eu (ew) e and u sounded together with stress on the f knew. 

|u (ew) f and u sounded together with stress on the f fewe. 

oi (oy) like oy in boy coy. 

ou (ow) o and u sounded together with stress on o foughten, 

bowe. 
Note: the vowels of Chaucer's day were probably sounded without the 
addition of the i or u glide which we attach today: e. g., 6 in modern Eng- 
lish note is usually pronounced as o+u; a in name as a+i. 

The Consonants: 

The Middle English consonant-sounds were much like those of modern 
English. There were, however, no silent consonants: medial and final 
gh had the sound of ch in modern German ich or nacht; k, 1, and w were 
never silent: e. g., knyght, palmeres, write; ng followed by a vowel was 
pronounced like ng in finger: cf. yonge. Other differences are as follows: 
r was trilled; s and th when final or next voiceless consonants were un- 
voiced (like s in this, and th in thing) ; th in proper names was probably 
sounded like t; -cion, -tion, -sion, were pronounced clearly as in French 
with the consonants distinct (as -sion, not -shun) ; g before e or i was 
often pronounced as in modern English gem or ginger: e. g., age, gipser. 

In the manuscripts a double vowel indicates a long vowel; u before n, 
m or u, and occasionally after c or w is written o: e. g., Sonne, coppe; u 
and V are interchangeable, and so are i and y. These features are retained 
in the present text. 



SELECTIONS FROM CHAUCER 

THE BOOK OF THE DtlCHESSE 

The Proem 

I have gret wonder, by this Hght, 
How that I Hve; for day ne night 
I may nat slepe wel nigh noght. 
I have so many an ydel thoght 
Purely for defaute of sleep 
That, by my trouthe, I take no keep 
Of no-thing, how hit cometh or goth, 
Ne me nis no-thing leef nor loth. 
Al is y-liche good to me — 
loye or sorowe, wherso hit be — 
For I have feling in no-thing. 
But, as it were, a mased thing, 
Alway in point to falle a-doun: 
For sorwful imaginacioun 
Is alway hoolly in my minde. 

And wel ye woote, agaynes kinde 
Hit were to liven in this wyse; 
For nature wolde nat suffyse 
To noon erthely creature 
Not longe tyme to endure 
Withoute sleep, and be in sorwe. 
And I ne may, ne night ne morwe, 
Slepe; and this melancolye 
And drede I have for to dye, 
Defaute of sleep, and hevinesse 
Hath sleyn my spirit of quiknesse 
That I have lost al lustihede: 
Suche fantasyes ben in myn hede. 
So I not what is best to do. 



Sk. 1-29 



CHAUCER 3(Hi7 

But men mighte axe me, why so 
I may not slepe, and what me is, 
But natheles, who aske this 
Leseth his asking trewely. 
My-selven can not telle why 
The sooth; but trewly, as I gesse, 
I holde hit be a siknesse 
That I havQ suffred this eight yeer. 
And yet my bote is nevere the neer; 
For ther is phisicien but oon, 
That may me hele. But that is doon. 
Passe we over until eft: 
That wil not be, moot nede be left; 
Our first matere is good to kepe. 

So whan I saw I might not slepe 
Til now late, this other night, 
Upon my bed I sat upright 
And bad oon reche me a book, 
A romaunce, and he hit me took 
To rede and dryve the night away. 
For me thoghte it better play 
Than play either at chesse or tables. 

And in this book were writen fables 
That clerkes hadde, in olde tyme. 
And other poets, put in ryme 
To rede, and for to be in minde 
Whyl men loved the lawe of kinde. 
This book ne spak but of such thinges, 
Of queues lyves, and of kinges. 
And many othere thinges smale. 
Among al this I fond a tale 
That me thoughte a wonder thing. 

This was the tale: Ther was a king 
That highte Seys, and had a wyf. 
The beste that mighty bere lyf 
And this quene highte Alcyone. 
So hit befel, therafter sone, 
This king wol wenden over see. 

Sk. 30-67 



68-105 THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 

To tellen shortly, whan that he 
Was in the see, thus in this wyse, 
Soch a tempest gan to ryse 
That brak hir mast, and made it falle, 
And clefte hir ship, and dreinte hem alle, 
That nevere was founden, as it telles, 
Bord ne man, ne nothing elles. 
Right thus this king Seys loste his lyf. 

Now for to speken of his wyf : — 
This lady, that was left at hom. 
Hath wonder that the king ne com 
Hoom, for hit was a longe terme. 
Anon her herte gan to erme. 
And for that hir thoughte everemo, 
Hit was not wel hir thoughte so. 
She longed so after the king 
That certes hit were a pitous thing 
To telle hir hertely sorwful lyf 
That hadde, alas! this noble wyf, 
For him she loved alderbest. 
Anon she sente bothe eest and west 
To seke him, but they founde nought. 

''Alas!" quoth she, ''that I was wrought! 
And wher my lord, my love, be deed? 
Certes, I nil nevere ete breed, 
I make a-vow to my god here. 
But I mowe of my lord here!" 
Such sorwe this lady to her took 
That trewely I, which made this book, 
Had swich pite and swich rowthe 
To rede hir sorwe, that, by my trowthe, 
I ferde the worse al the morwe 
After, to thenken on her sorwe. 

So when this lady coude here no word 
That no man mighte fynde hir lord, 
Ful oft she swouned and seide "Alas!" 
For sorwe ful nigh wood she was. 
Ne she coude no reed but oon; 

Sk. 6&-105 



CHAUCER 106-143 

But doun on knees she sat anoon 
And weep, that pite was to here. 
"A! mercy! swete lady dere!" 
Quod she to luno, hir goddesse. 
"Help me out of this distresse, 
And yeve me grace my lord to see 
Sone, or wite wher-so he be, 
Or how he fareth or in what wyse. 
And I shal make you sacrifyse. 
And hoolly your^s become I shal 
With good wille, body, herte, and al. 
And but thou wilt this, lady swete. 
Send me grace to slepe, and mete 
In my sleep som certeyn sweven, 
Wher-through that I may knowen even 
Whether my lord be quik or deed." 
With that word she heng doun the heed, 
And fil a-swown as cold as ston. 
Hir women caughte her up anon, 
And broghten hir in bed al naked; 
And she, forweped and forwaked, 
Was wery, and thus the dede sleep 
Fil on her, or she took keep. 
Through luno, that had herd hir bone, 
That made hir to slepe sone. 
For as she prayde, right so was don 
In dede; for luno right anon 
Called thus her messager 
To do her erand, and he com neer. 
Whan he was come, she bad him thus: 
"Go bet," quod luno, ''to Morpheus — 
Thou knowest him wel, the god of sleep. 
Now understond wel and tak keep. 
Sey thus on my half, that he 
Go faste into the grete see. 
And bid him that on alle thing 
He take up Seys' body the king. 
That lyth ful pale and no-thing rody. 

Sk. 106-143 



144-181 THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 

Bid him crepe into the body 
And do it goon to Alcyone 
The quene, ther she lyth alone, 
And shewe hir shortly, hit is no nay. 
How hit was dreynt this other day; 
And do the body speke right so. 
Right as hit was wont to do 
The whyles that hit was on lyve. 
Go now faste, and hy thee blyve!" 

This messager took leve and wente 
Upon his wey, and nevere ne stente 
Til he com to the derke valeye 
That stant bytwene roches tweye, 
Ther nevere yet grew corn ne gras, 
Ne tree, ne nothing that ought was, 
Beste, ne man, ne nothing elles. 
Save ther were a fewe welles 
Came renning fro the cliffes adoun, 
That made a deedly sleping soun. 
And ronnen doun right by a cave 
That was under a rokke y-grave 
Amid the valeye wonder depe. 
Ther thise goddes laye and slepe, 
Morpheus, and Eclympasteyr 
(That was the god of slepes heyr). 
That slepe and did non other werk. 

This cave was also as derk 
As helle pit over-al aboute. 
They had good leyser for to route, 
To envye who might slepe best. 
Some henge hir chin upon hir brest 
And slepe upright, hir heed y-hed. 
And som^ laye naked in hir bed. 
And slepe whyles the dayes laste. 

This messager com flying faste. 
And cryed, ''O ho! awak anon!" 
Hit was for noght; ther herde him non. 
"Awak!" quod he, "who is, lyth there?" 

Sk. 144-181 



CHAUCER 182-219 

And blew his horn right in hir ere, 

And cryed ''Awaketh!" wonder hye. 

This god of sleep with his oon ye 

Cast up and axed, "Who clepeth ther?" 

^'Hit am I," quod this messager; 

"luno bad thou shuldest goon"— 

And tolde him what he shulde doon 

As I have told yow heer-tofore: 

Hit is no need reherse hit more: 
^And wente his wey, whan he had sayd. 
^ Anon this god of sleep a-brayd 

Out of his sleep, and gan to goon 

And did as he had bede him doon, 

Took up the dreynte body sone 

And bar hit forth to Alcyone, 

His wyf the qiiene, ther-as she lay, 

Right even a quarter before day, 

And stood right at hir beddes feet, 
■ And called hir right as she heet 

By name, and seyde, "My swete wyf, 

Awak! let be your sorwful lyf ! 

For in your sorwe ther ly th no reed ; 

For certes, swete, I am but deed. 

Ye shul me nevere on lyve y-see. 

But goode swete herte, that ye 

Bury my body, for such a tyde 

Ye mowe hit finde the see besyde. 

And far-wel, swete, my worldes bhsse! 

I praye God your sorwe lisse. 

To Htel whyl our bhsse lasteth!" 
With that hir eyen up she casteth. 

And saw noght. "Alias!" quod she for sorwe, 

And deyed within the thridde morwe. 

But what she sayde more in that swow 

I may not telle yow as now; 

It were to longe for to dwelle. 

My first matere I wil yow telle, 

Wherfore I have told this thing 

Sk. 182-219 



220-257 THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 

Of Alcione and Seys the king. 

For thus moche dar I saye wel: 
I had be dolven every del, 
And deed, right through defaute of sleep, 
If I nad red and taken keep 
Of this tale next before. 
And I wol telle yow wherfore; . 

For I ne might, for bote ne bale, l/JX^"^ 
Slepe or I had red this tale 
Of this dreynte Seys the king 
And of the goddes of sleping. 
Whan I had red this tale wel 
And over-loked hit everydel. 
Me thoughte wonder if hit were so; 
For I had nevere herd speke, or tho. 
Of no goddes that coude make 
Men to slepe, ne for to wake. 
For I ne "knew nevere god but oon. 
And in my game I sayde anoon 
(And yet me list right evel to pleye) 
" Rather then that I shulde deye 
Through defaute of sleping thus, 
I wolde yive thilke Morpheus, 
Or his goddesse, dame luno. 
Or som wight elles, I ne roghte who — 
To make me slepe and have som reste — 
I wil yive him the alder-beste 
Yifte that evere he abood his lyve. 
And here on warde, right now, as blyve. 
If he wol make me slepe a lyte, 
Of downe of pure dowves whyte 
I wil yive him a fether-bed. 
Rayed with gold, and right wel cled 
In fyn blak satin doutremere. 
And many a pilow, and every bere 
Of cloth of Reynes, to slepe softe; 
Him thar not nede to turnen ofte. 
And I wol yive him al that falles 

Sk. 220-257 



CHAUCER 258-: 

To a chambre; and al his halles 
I wol do peynte with pure gold 
And tapite hem f ul many a fold 
Of oo sute. This shal he have, 
If I wiste wher were his cave, 
If he can make me slepe sone 
As did the goddesse Alcione. 
And thus this ilke god, Morpheus, 
May winne of me mo fees thus 
Than evere he wan. And to luno. 
That is his goddesse, I shall so do, 
I trow that she shal holde her payd. 

I had unnethe that word y-sayd 
Right thus as I have told hit yow, 
That sodeynly, I niste how, 
Swich a lust anoon me took 
To slepe, that right upon my book 
I fil asleep, and therwith even 
Me mette so inly swete a sweven, 
So wonderful that nevere yit 
I trowe no man hadde the wit 
To conne wel my sweven rede: 
No, not loseph, withoute drede, 
Of Egypte, he that redde so 
The kinges meting Pharao, 
No more than coude the leste of us; 
Ne nat scarsly Macrobeus, 
(He that wroot al thavisioun 
That he mette. King Scipioun, 
The noble man, the Affrican — 
Swiche mervayles fortuned than) 
I trowe, a-rede my dremes even. 
Lo, thus hit was, this was my sweven. 

The Dream 

Me thoughte thus: — that hit was May, I 

And in the dawning ther I lay, | 

Me mett^ thus, in my bed al naked; 

Sk. 258-293 



THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 

And loked forth, for I was waked 

With smale foules a gret heep, 

That had affrayed me out of my sleep 

Through noyse and swetnesse of hir song. 

And, as me mette, they sate among 

Upon my chambre-roof withoute. 

Upon the tyles over-al a-boute, 

And songen, everich in his wyse, 

The moste solempne servyse 

By note, that evere man, I trowe, 

Had herd; for som of hem song lowe, 

Som hye, and al of oon acord. 

To telle shortly, at oo word. 

Was nevere y-herd so swete a stevene 

But hit had be a thing of hevene: 

So merye a soun, so swete en tunes, 

That certes, for the toun of Tewnes 

I nolde but I had herd hem singe; 

For al my chambre gan to ringe 

Through singing of hir armonye. 

For instrument nor melodye 

Was nowher herd yet half so swete, 

Nor of acorde half so mete; 

For ther was noon of hem that feyned 

To singe, for ech of hem him peyned 

To finde oute merye crafty notes. 

They ne spared not hir throtes. 

And sooth to seyn, my chambre was 

Ful wel depeynted, and with glas 

Were al the windowes wel y-glased 

Ful clere, and nat an hool y-crased, 

That to beholde hit was gret loye. 

For hoolly al the storie of Troye 

Was in the glasing y-wroght thus 

Of Ector and of King Priamus, 

Of Achilles and of King Lamedon, 

And eek of Medea and of lason, 

Of Paris, Eleyne, and of Lavyne. 



Sk. 294-331 



10 CHAUCER 

And alle the walks with colours fyne 
Were peynted, bothe text and glose, 
And al the Romaunce of the Rose, 
My windowes weren shet echon, 
And through the glas the sunne shon 
Upon my bed with brighte bemes, 
With many glade gilden stremes. 
And eek the welken was so fair, 
Blew, bright, clere was the air, . 
And ful atempre for sothe hit was: 
For nother to cold nor hoot hit nas, 
Ne in al the welken was a cloude. 
And as I lay thus, wonder loude 
Me thoughte I herde an hunte blowe 
Tassaye his horn, and for to knowe 
Whether hit were cleer or hors of soun. 
And I herde going bothe up and doun. 
Men, hors, houndes, and other thing, 
And al men speken of hunting. 
How they wolde slee the hert with strengthe, 
And how the hert had, upon lengthe. 
So moche embosed, I not now what. 
Anon-right whan I herde that. 
How that they wolde on hunting goon, 
I was right glad, and up anoon 
Took my hors, and forth I wente 
Out of my chambre. I nevere stente 
Til I com to the feld withoute. 
Ther overtook I a gret route 
Of huntes and eek of foresteres, 
With many relayes and lymeres. 
And hyed hem to the forest faste 
And I with hem. So at the laste 
I asked oon, ladde a lymere: 
"Say, felowe, who shal hunte here?" 
Quod I, and he answerde ageyn: 
"Sir, themperour Octovien," 
Quod he, "and is heer faste by." 



332-369 



Sk. 332-369 



THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 11 

"A Goddes half, in good tyme!" quod I, 
"Go we faste!" and gan to ryde. 
Whan we came to the forest-syde, 
Every man did right anoon 
As to hunting fil to doon. 
The mayster-hunte anoon, fot-hoot, 
With a gret horn blew three moot 
At the uncoupling of his houndes. 
Within a whyl the hert y-founde is, 
Y-halowed and rechased faste 
Longe tyme; and so at the laste 
This hert rused and stal away 
Fro alle the houndes a prevy way. 
The houndes had overshote hem alle, 
And were on a defaute y-falle. 
Therwith the hunte wonder faste 
Blew a forloyn at the laste. 

I was go walked fro my tree, 
And as I wente, ther cam by me 
A whelp, that fanned me as I stood. 
That had y-folowed, and coude no good. 
Hit coom and creep to me as lowe, 
Right as hit hadde me y-knowe, 
Hild doun his heed and loyned his eres, 
And leyde al smothe doun his heres. 
I wolde have caught hit, and anoon 
Hit fledde and was fro me goon. \^ 
And I him folwed, and hit forth wente 
Doun by a floury grene wente 
Ful thikke of gras, ful softe and swete. 
With floures fde, faire under fete, ■ -'^l 

And litel used, hit semed thus: 
For bothe Flora and Zephirus, 
They two that make floures growe. 
Had made hir dwelling ther, I trowe. 
For hit was, on to beholde. 
As thogh the erthe envye wolde 
To be gayer than the hevene 



Sk. 370-407 



12 CHAUCER 408-44S 

To have mo floures, swiche sevene 
As in the welken sterres be. 
Hit had forgete the povertee 
That winter through his colde morwes 
Had mad hit suffren, and his sorwes: 
Al was forgeten, and that was sene. 
For al the wode was waxen grene, 
Swetnesse of dewe had mad it waxe. 

Hit is no nede eek for to axe 
Wher ther were many grene greves, 
Or thikke of trees so ful of leves; 
And every tree stood by him-selve 
Fro other wel ten foot or twelve: 
So grete trees, so huge of strengthe, 
Of fourty or fifty fadme lengthe, 
Clene withoute bough or stikke, 
With croppes brode and eek as thikke — 
They were nat an inche a-sonder — 
That hit was shadwe over-al under. 
And many an hert and many an hinde 
Was both before me and bihinde. 
Of founes, soures, bukkes, does 
Was ful the wode, and many roes, 
And many squirelles, that sete 
Ful hye upon the trees and ete 
And in hir maner made festes. 
Shortly, hit was so ful of bestes 
That thogh Argus, the noble countour, 
Sete to rekene in his countour 
And rekene with his figures ten 
(For by tho figures mowe al ken, 
If they be crafty, rekene and noumbre 
And telle of every thing the noumbre) 
Yet shulde he fayle to rekene even 
The wondres me mette in my sweven. 

But forth they romed right wonder faste 
Doun the wode. So at the laste 
I was war of a man in blak, '] 

Sk. 408-445 



146-483 THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 13 

That sat and had y- turned his bak 
To an ook, an huge tree. 
''Lord!" thoughte I, ''who may that be? 
What ayleth him to sitten heer?" 
Anoon-right I wente neer. 
Than fond I sitten even upright 
A wonder wel-faringe knight 
(By the maner me thoughte so) 
Of good mochel and right yong thereto, 
Of the age of four and twenty yeer. 
Upon his herd but Utel heer, 
And he was clothed al in blak. 
I stalked even unto his bak 
And ther I stood as stille as ought 
3o That, sooth to saye, he saw me nought. 
He sayde a lay, a maner song, 
Withoute note, withoute song. 
And hit was this (for wel I can 
Reherse hit) — right thus hit began: — 

"I have of sorwe so gret woon 

That loye gete I nevere noon 
Now that I see my lady bright, 
Which I have loved with al my might, 
Is fro me deed, and is a-goon. 

"Alias, O Deeth! what ayleth thee. 
That thou noldest have taken me 

Whan that thou toke my lady swete? 
That was so fayr, so freshe, so free. 
So good, that men may wel see 

Of al goodnesse she had no mete!" — 
Whan he had maad thus his complaynte. 
His sorowful herte gan faste faynte; 
For he had wel nigh lost his minde, 
Thogh Pan, that men clepe god of kinde, t%uLrSi 
Were for his sorwes nevere so wrooth. 

But at the laste, to sayn right sooth. 
He was war of me, how I stood 
Before him and did o f myn hood 

Sk. 446-460; 471-488; 511-516 ^^i'jU^ 



14 CHAUCER 484-521 

And had y-gret him as I best coude. 
Debonairly and no-thing loude 
He sayde, "I prey thee, be not wrooth. 
I herde thee not, to sayn the sooth, 
Ne I saw thee not, sir, trewely." 

"A! goode sir, no fors," quod I, 
" I am right sory if I have ought 
Destroubled yow out of your thought. 
For-yive me if I have mis- take." 

" Yis, thamendes is Hght to make," 
Quod he, "for ther lyth noon ther-to. 
Ther is no-thing missayd nor do." 

Lo! how goodly spak this knightj 
As it had been another wight; ioc^*^^"-*- 
He made it nouther tough ne queynte. 
And I saw that and gan me aqueynte 
With him, and fond him so tretable, 
Right wonder skilful and resonable, 
As me thoghte, for al his bale. 
Anoon-right I gan finde a tale 
To him, to loke wher I might ought 
Have more knowing of his thought. 

" Sire," quod I, "this game is doon. 
I holde that this hert be goon: 
Thise huntes conne him nowher see." 

"I do no fors thereof," quod he, 
"My thought is ther-on nevere a del." 

"By our Lord," quod I, "I trow yow wel, 
Right so me thinketh by your chere. 
But, sir, oo thing wol ye here? 
Me thinketh in gret sorwe I yow see. 
But certes, sire, yif that ye 
Wolde ought discure me your wo, 
I wolde, as wis God helpe me so, 
Amende hit, yif I can or may. 
Ye mowe preve hit by assay; 
For, by my trouthe, to make yow hool 
I wol do al my power hool. 

Sk, 517-554 



522-559 THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 15 

And telleth me of your sorwes smerte: 
Paraventure hit may ese your herte, 
That semeth ful seek under your syde." 

With that he loked on me asyde, 
As who sayth, ''Nay, that wol not be." 
"Graunt mercy, goode frend," quod he, 
"I thanke thee that thou woldest so, 
But hit may nevere the rather be do. 
No man may my sorwe glade, 
That maketh my hewe to falle and fade; 
For I am sorwe and sorwe is I. 
Alias! and I wol telle the why. 
My song is turned to pleyninge 
And al my laughter to wepinge, 
My glade thoghtes to hevinesse; 
In travaile is myn ydelnesse. 
My boldnesse is turned to shame, 
For false Fortune hath pleyd a game 
At the ches with me, alias! the whyle! 
The trayteresse false and ful of gyle, • j^ 

That afbehoteth and no- thing l;alt, "T' f'^'^^^'^^^^^l^ 
She goth upryght and yet she halt, J i^ ^^ 
That baggeth f oule and loketh faire, 
The dispitouse debonaire! 
Ful many oon hath she thus y-blent. 
She is,pley of enchauntement, 
That semeth oon and is nat so. 
The false theef ! what hath she do, 
Trowest thou? By our Lord, I wol thee seye. 
At the ches with me she gan to pleye; 
With hir false draughtes divers 
She stal on me and took my f ers. 
And whan I saw my fers aweye, 
Alas! I couthe no lenger pleye, 
But seyde, 'Farwel, swete, y-wis. 
And farwel al that evere ther is!' 
Therwith Fortune seyde 'Chek heer!' 
And 'Maat!' in the mid point of the chekker 



<^x^' '- -^ " 



Sk. 555-564; 597-602; 617-624; 647-660 / ^ [aAJ^-^ 



16 CHAUCER 



560-597 



With a poun erraunt, alias! 
Ful craftier to pley she was 
Than Athalus, that made the game 
First of the ches. So was his name. 
I have more sorowe than Tantale." 

And whan I herde him telle this tale 
Thus pitously, as I yow telle, 
Unnethe mighte I lenger dwelle. 
Hit did myn herte so moche wo. 

"A! good sir!" quod I, ''say not so! 
Have som pite on your nature 
That formed yow to creature. 
Remembre yow of Socrates: 
For he ne counted nat three strees 
Of noght that Fortune coude do." 

"Why so?" quod he. "Hit is nat so! 
(k^-rxoux^^ Thou wost ful litel what thou menest; 
I have lost more than thou wenest." 

"Lo, sir, how that may be," quod I, 
"Goode sir, tel me al hooUy; 
In what wyse, how, why, and wherfore 
That ye have thus your blisse lore." ^1 

"Blythly," quod he. "Com sit adoun. 
I telle thee upon a condicioun 
That thou shalt hoolly, with al thy wit, 
Do thyn entente to herkene hit." 

"Yis, sir." "Swer thy trouthe ther-to." 

"Gladly." "Dothanholdeher-to." 

"I shal right blythly, so God me save, 
Hoolly, with al the wit I have, 
Here yow as wel as I can." 

"A Goddes half!" quod he and began: — 
"Sire," quod he, "sith first I couthe 
Have any maner wit fro youthe, 
Or kyndely understonding 
To comprehende in any thing 
What love was, in myn owne wit, 
Dredeles I have evere yit 

Sk. 661-664; 709-719; 742-764 



598-635 THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 17 

Be tributary and yeve rente 

To Love hoolly with good entente, 

And through plesaunce become his thral, 

With good wille, body, herte, and al. 

Al this I putte in his servage, 

As to my lord, and did homage. 

Hit happed that I cam on a day 

Into a place ther that I say ^a."*' 

Trewly the fayrest companye 

Of ladies that evere man with ye 

Had seen togedres in oo place. 

Shal I clepe hit hap other grace 

That broghte me there? Nay, but Fortune, 

That is to lyen ful comune. 

The false trayteresse, pervers, 

God wolde I coude clepe hir wers! 

For now she worcheth me ful wo, 

And I wol telle sone why so. 

"Among thise ladies thus echoon, 
Sooth to seyen, I saw oon 
That was lyk noon of the route. 
For I dar swere, withoute doute, 
That as the someres sonne bright 
Is fairer, clerer, and hath more light 
Than any other planete in hevene, 
The mone, or the sterres sevene, 
For al the world, so hadde she 
Surmounted hem alle of beaute, 
That purely tho myn owne thoght 
Seyde hit were bettre serve hir for noght 
Than with another to be wel. 
And hit was sooth, for everydel 
I wil anoon-right telle thee why. 

''I saw hir daunce so comlily, 
Carole and singe so swetely, 
Laughe and pleye so womanly, 
And loke so debonairly, 
So goodly speke and so frendly, 

Sk. 765-770; 805-826; 843-852 



18 



CHAUCER 



636-673 



V^-t 






That certes, I trow, that everemor 
Nas seyn so bUsful a tresor. 
For every heer upon hir heed, 
Soth to seyn, hit was not reed, 
Ne nouther yelowe, ne broun hit nas: 
Me thoghte most lyk gold hit was. 
And whiche eyen my lady hadde! 
Debonaire, goode, glade, and sadde, 
Simple, of good mochel, noght to wyde. 
Therto hir look nas not a-syde, 
Ne overthwert, but beset so wel, 
Hit drew and took up everydel 
Alle that on hir gan beholde. 
Hir eyen semed anoon she wolde 
Have mercy. Fooles wenden so; 
But hit was nevere the rather do. 
Hit nas no countrefeted thing: 
It was hir owne pure loking, 
That the goddesse. Dame Nature, 
Had made hem opene by mesure 
And close. For were she nevere so glad, 
Hir loking was not foly sprad 
Ne wildely, thogh that she pleyde; 
But evere, me thoghte, hir eyen seyde, 
'By God, my wrathe is al for-yive!' 
"Therwith hir liste so wel to live 
That dulnesse was of hir a-drad. 
She nas to sobre ne to glad. 
In alle thinges more mesure 
Had nevere, I trowe, creature. 
But many oon with hir look she herte; 
And that sat hir ful lyte at herte; 
For she knew no-thing of hir thoght. 
But whether she knew, or knew it noght, 
Algate she ne roghte of hem a stree! 
To gete hir love no ner nas he 
That woned at home, than he in Inde: 
The formest was alway behinde. 



Sk. 853-890 



674-711 THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 19 

But goode folk, over al other, 
She loved as man may do his brother, 
Of which love she was wonder large 
In skilful places that here .charge. 

''But which a visage had she ther-to! 
Alias! myn herte is wonder wo 
That I ne can discryven hit! 
Me lakketh bothe English and wit 
For to undo hit at the fulle. 
And eek my spirits be so dulle 
So greet a thing for to devyse. 
I have no wit that can suffyse 
To comprehenden hir beaute. 
But thus moche dar I seyn, that she 
Was rody, freshe, and lyvely hewed. 
And every day hir beaute newed. 
And negh hir face was alder-best. 
For certes, Nature had swich lest 
To make that faire, that trewly she 
Was hir cheef patron of beautee, 
And cheef ensample of al hir werk, 
And moustre. For be hit nevere so derk 
Me thinketh I see hir evere-mo. 
And yet more-over, thogh alle tho 
That evere lived were now a-lyve, 
Ne sholde have founde to discryve 
In al hir face a wikked signe. 
For hit was sad, simple, and benigne. 

"And which a goodly softe speche 
Hadde that swete, my lyves leche! 
So frendly, and so wel y-grounded, 
Up al resoun so wel y-founded 
And so tretable to alle gode, 
That I dar swere wel by the rode, 
Of eloquence was nevere founde 
So swete a sowninge facounde, 
Ne trewer tonged, ne scorned lasse, 
Ne bet coude hele: that by the masse 

Sk. 891-928 



20 CHAUCER 



712-749 



I durste swere, thogh the pope hit songe, 

That ther was nevere yet through hir tonge 

Man ne woman gretly harmed. 

As for hire was al harm hid; 

Ne lasse flatering in hir word 

That purely hir simple record 

Was founde as trewe as any bond, 

Or trouthe of any mannes hond. 

Ne chide she coude nevere a del, 

That knoweth al the world ful wel. 

*' But swich a fairnesse of a nekke 
Had that swete, that boon nor brekke 
Nas ther non sene that mis-sat. 
Hit was whyt, smothe, streght, and flat, 
Wi thou ten hole; or canel-boon 
As by seming had she noon. 
Hir throte, as I have now memoire, 
Semed a round tour of yvoire 
Of good gretnesse and noght to greet. 

''And gode faire Whyt she heet. 
That was my lady name right. 
She was bothe fair and bright, 
She hadde not hir name wrong. 
Right faire shuldres and body long 
She hadde, and armes, every lith 
Fattish, flesshly, not greet therwith. 
Therto she coude so wel pleye. 
Whan that hir liste, that I dar seye 
That she was lyk to torche bright. 
That every man may take of light 
Ynogh, and hit hath nevere the lesse= 

"Of manere and of comlinesse 
Right so ferde my lady dere. 
For every wight of hir manere 
Might cacche ynogh, if that he wolde. 
If he had eyen hir to beholde. 
For I dar swere wel, if that she 
Had among ten thousand be, 

Sk. 929-954: 961-972 



750-787 THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 21 

She wolde have be, at the leste, 
A cheef mirour of al the feste, 
Thogh they had stonden in a rowe 
To mennes eyen that coude have knowe. 
For wher-so men had pleyd or waked, 
Me thoghte the felawshipe as naked 
Withouten hir, that I saw ones, 
As a coroune withoute stones. 
Trewly she was, to myn ye, 
The soleyn fenix of Arabye, 
For ther Hveth nevere but oon. 
Ne swich as she ne knew I noon. 

''To speke of goodnesse, trewly she 
Had as moche debonairte 
As evere had Hester in the Bible, 
And more if more were possible. 
And soth to seyne, therewith-al 
She had a wit so general. 
So hool enclyned to alle gode, 
That al hir wit was set, by the rode, 
Withoute malice upon gladnesse. 
And thereto I saw nevere yet a lesse 
Harmful than she was in doinge. 
I sey nat that she ne had knowinge 
What harm was; or elles she 
Had coud no gode, so thinketh me. 

''And trewly, for to speke of trouthe, 
But she had had, hit had be routhe. 
Thereof she had so moche hir del — 
And I dar seyn and swere hit wel — 
That Trouthe him-self, over al and al, 
Had chose his maner principal 
In hir, that was his resting-place. 
Ther-to she hadde the moste grace 
To have stedfast perseveraunce. 
And esy, atempre governaunce, 
That evere I knew or wiste yit: 
So pure suffraunt was hir wit. 

Sk. 973-1010 



22 CHAUCER 



788-825 



And reson gladly she understood; 
Hit folowed wel she coude good. 
She used gladly to do wel. 
These were hir maners every-del. 

''Therwith she loved so wel right, 
She wrong do wolde to no wight. 
No wight might do hir no shame, 
She loved so wel hir owne name. 
Hir luste to holde no wight in honde: 
Ne, be thou siker, she nolde fonde 
To holde no wight in balaunce 
By halfe word ne by countenaunce, 
But-if men wolde upon hir lye; 
Ne sende men in-to Walakye, 
To Pruyse and in-to Tartarye, 
To Alisaundre ne in-to Turkye, 
And bidde him faste anoon that he 
Go hoodless in-to the drye see 
And come hoom by the Carrenar, 
And seye, ' Sir, be now right war 
That I may of yow here seyn 
Worship or that ye come ageyn!' 
She ne used no suche knakkes smale. 

''But wherfore that I telle my tale? 
Right on this same, as I have seyd. 
Was hoolly al my love leyd. 
For certes, she was, that swete wyf, 
My suffisaunce, my lust, my lyf, 
Myn hap, myn hele, and al my blisse, 
My worldes welfare and my lisse. 
And I hirs hoolly, everydel." 

"By our lord," quod I, "I trowe yow wel! 
Hardely your love was wel beset, 
I not how ye mighte have do bet." 
"Bet? Ne no wight so wel!" quod he. 
"I trowe hit, sir," quod I, "parde!" 
"Nay, leve hit wel!" "Sir, so do I. 
I leve yow wel, that trewely 

Sk. 1011-1048 



826-863 THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 23 

Yow thoghte that she was the beste, 

And to beholde the alderfaireste, 

Who so had loked her with your eyen." 

''With myn? Nay, alle that hir seyen 
Seyde, and sworen hit was so. 
And thogh they ne hadde, I wolde tho 
Have loved best my lady fre, 
Thogh I had had al the beautee 
That ever had Alcipyades, 
And al the strengthe of Ercules. 
For wonder fayn I wolde hir see: 
So mochel hit amended me 
That whan I saw hir first a-morwe 
I was warished of al my sorwe 
Of al day after, til hit were eve. 
Me thoghte no-thing mighte me greve, 
Were my sorwes nevere so smerte. 
And yit she sit so in myn herte 
That, by my trouthe, I nolde noght, 
For al this world, out of my thoght 
Lave my lady — no, trewly!" 

"Now, by my trouthe, sir," quod I, 
*'Me thinketh ye have such a chaunce 
As shrift withoute repentaunce." 

"Repentaunce! Nay, fy!" quod he. 
'' Shulde I now repente me 
To love? Nay, certes, than were I wel 
Wers than was Achitofel, 
Or Anthenor, so have I loye. 
The traytour that betraysed Troye, 
Or the false Genelon, 
He that purchased the treson 
Of Rowland and of Oliver. 
Nay, whyl I am a-lyve heer 
I nil foryete hir nevere-mo." 

"Now, goode sire," quod I tho, 
"Ye han wel told me her-before. 
It is no nede reherse hit more 

Sk. 1049-1058; 1101-1128 



24 CHAUCER 



864-901 



How ye sawe hir first and where. 
But wolde ye telle me the manere, 
To hir which was your firste speche 
(Therof I wolde yow be-seche) 
And how she knewe first your thoght, 
Whether ye loved hir or noght. 
And telleth me eek what ye have lore; 
I herde yow telle her-before." 

"Ye," seyde he, "thou nost what thou menest. 
I have lost more than thou wenest." 

"What los is that?" quod I tho. 
"Nil she not love yow? Is it so? 
Or have ye oght doon amis 
That she hath left yow? Is hit this? 
For Goddes love, telle me al." 

"Before God," quod he, "and I shal. 
I saye right as I have seyd. 
On hir was al my love leyd, 
And yet she niste hit nevere a del 
Noght longe t3ane, leve hit well 
For be right siker, I durste noght 
For al this world telle hir my thoght, 
Ne I wolde have wratthed hir, trewly. 
For wostow why? She was lady 
Of the body: she had the herte, 
And who hath that, may not asterte. 

"But, for to kepe me fro ydelnesse, 
Trewly I did my besinesse 
To make songes as I best coude. 
And of te tyme I song hem loude. 
I thoughte ones I wolde fonde 
To do hir knowe and understonde 
My wo; and she wel understood 
That I ne wilned thing but good 
And worship and to kepe hir name 
Over al thing, and drede hir shame. 
And was so besy hir to serve. 
And pite were I shulde sterve, 

Sk. 1129-1158; 1259-1266 



902-939 THE BOOK OF THE DUCHESSE 25 

Sith that I wilned noon harm, y-wis. 
So whan my lady knew al this, 
My lady yaf me al hoolly 
The noble yifte of hir mercy, 
Saving hir worship, by al weyes. 
Dredles, I men^ noon other weyes. 
And therwith she yaf me a ring — 
I trowe hit was the firste thing. 
But if myn herte was y-waxe 
Glad, that is no nede to axe! 
As helpe me God, I was as blyve 
Reysed as fro dethe to lyve: 
Of alle happes the alder-beste, 
The gladdest and the most at reste. 
For trewely, that swete wight, 
Whan I had wrong and she the right, 
She wolde alwey so goodely 
For-yeve me so debonairly. 
In alle my youthe, in alle chaunce, 
She took me in hir governamice. 

"Therwith she was alway so trewe, 
Our loye was ever y-liche newe. 
Our hertes wern so even a payre 
That nevere nas that oon contrayre 
To that other, for no wo. 
For sothe, y-liche they suffred tho 

00 blisse and eek oo sorwe bothe. 
Y-lich^ they were bothe gladde and wrothe; 
Al was us oon, withoute wer. 

And thus we lived f ul many a yeer 
So wel, I can nat telle how." 

"Sire," quod I, "wher is she now? " 
"Now!" quod he, and stinte anoon. 
Therwith he wex as deed as stoon, 
And seyde, "Alias! that I was bore! 
That was the los that her-before 

1 tolde thee that I had lorn. 
Bethenk how I seyde her-befom, 

Sk. 1267-1304 



26 CHAUCER 940-969 

*Thou wost ful litel what thou menest; 
I have lost more than thou wenest.' 
God wot, alias! right that was she!" 

"Alias! sir, how? What may that be?" 
"She is deed!" "Nay!" "Yis, by my trouthe!" 
"Is that your los? By God, hit is routhe!" 

And with that word, right anoon, 
They gan to strake forth: al was doon, 
For that tyme, the hert-hunting. 

With that me thoghte, that this king 
Gan quickly hoomward for to ryde 
Unto a place, was ther besyde, 
Which was from us but a lyte, 
A long castel with walles whyte, 
By Se3rQte lohan! on a riche hil. 
As me mette, but thus it fil. 

Right thus me mette, as I yow telle, 
That in the castel ther was a belle. 
As hit had smiten houres twelve. — 
Therwith I awook my-selve. 
And fond me lying in my bed. 
And the book that I had red. 
Of Alcyone and Seys the king 
And of the goddes of sleping, 
I fond it in myn hond ful even. 

Thoghte I, "This is so queynte a sweven 
That I wol, by processe of tyme, 
Fonde to putte this sweven in ryme 
As I can best, and that anoon." 
This was my sweven. Now hit is doon. 

ExpHcit the Book of the Duchesse. 

Sk. 1305-1334 



THE HOUS OF FAME 



Book I 



God turne us every dreem to gode! 

For hit is wonder, by the rode, 

To my wit, what causeth swevenes 

Either on morwes or on evenes; 

And why the effect folweth of somme, 

And of somme hit shal nevere come; 

Why that is an avisioun, 

And why this a revelacioun; 

Why this a dreem, why that a sweven, 

And nat to every man Hche even; 

Why this a fantome, why these oracles, 

I noot; but who-so of these miracles 

The causes knoweth bet than I, 

Devyne he; for I certeinly 

Ne can hem noght, ne nevere thinke 

To besily my wit to swinke 

To knowe of hir signifiaunce 

The gendres, neither the distaunce 

Of tymes of hem, ne the causes 

For-why this is more than that cause is- 

As if folkes complexiouns 

Make hem dreme of reflexiouns, 

Or elles thus, as other sayn. 

For to greet feblenesse of her brayn, 

By abstinence or by seeknesse. 

Prison, stewe, or greet distresse, 

Or elles by disordinaunce 

Of naturel acustomaunce, 

That som man is to curious 

In studie, or melancolious, 

Or thus, so inly ful of drede 

That no man may him bote bede; 

Sk. 1-32 



28 CHAUCER 33-68 

Or elles, that devocioun 

Of somme, and contemplacioun 

Causeth swiche dremes ofte; 

Or that the cruel lyf unsof te 

Which these ilke lovers leden 

That hopen over muche or dreden 

That purely hir impressiouns 

Causeth hem avisiouns; 

Or if that spirits have the might 

To make folk to dreme a-night, 

Or if the soule, of propre kinde, 

Be so parfit as men finde 

That hit forwot that is to come, 

And that hit warneth alle and somme 

Of everich of hir aventures 

By avisiouns or by figures, 

But that our flesh ne hath no might 

To understonden hit aright, 

For hit is warned to derkly — 

But why the cause is, noght wot I. 

Wei worthe of this thing grete clerkes, 

That trete of this and other werkes; 

For I of noon opinioun 

Nil as now make mencioun. 

But only that the holy rode 

Turne us every dreem to gode! 

For nevere sith that I was born, 

Ne no man elles me biforn 

Mette, I trowe stedfastly, 

So wonderful a dreem as I 

The tenthe day did of Decembre, 

The which, as I can now remembre, 

I wol yow tellen every del. 

The Invocation 

But at my ginning, trusteth wel, 
I wol make invocacioun 
With special devocioun 

Sk. 33-68 



THE ROUS OF FAME 29 

Unto the god of sleep anoon, 

That dwelleth in a cave of stoon 

Upon a streem that comth fro Lete, 

That is a flood of helle unswete. 

Besyde a folk men clep^ Cimerie 

Ther slepeth ay this god unmerie 

With his slepy thousand sones 

That alway for to slepe hir wone is, 

And to this god that I of rede, 

Preye I that he wol me spede 

My sweven for to telle aright, 

If every dreem stonde in his might. 

And He, that mover is of al 

That is and was and evere shal. 

So yive hem loye that hit here 

Of alle that they dreme to-yere. 

And for to stonden alle in grace 

Of hir loves, or in what place 

That hem wer levest for to stonde. 

And shelde hem fro poverte and shonde; 

And fro unhappe and ech disese, 

And sende hem al that may hem plese, 

That take hit wel and scorne hit noght, 

Ne hit misdemen in her thoght 

Through mahcious entencioun. 

And who-so through presumpcioun, 

Or hate or scorn or through envye, 

Dispyt, or lape, or vilanye, 

Misdeme hit, preye I lesus God 

That — dreme he barfoot, dreme he shod — 

That every harm that any man 

Hath had sith the world began 

Befalle him thereof or he sterve. 

And graunte he mote hit ful deserve, 

Lo! with swich a conclusioun 

As had of his avisioun 

Cresus, that was king of Lyde, 

That high upon a gebet dyde! 



30 CHAUCER 107-142 

This prayer shal he have of me; 
I am no bet in charite! 
Now herkneth, as I have you seyd, 
What that I mette, or I abreyd. 

The Dream 
Of Decembre the tenthe day 
Whan hit was night to slepe I lay 
Right ther as I was wont to done, 
And fil on slepe wonder sone 
As he that wery was for-go 
On pilgrimage myles two 
To the corseynt Leonard 
To make lythe of that was hard. 

But as I sleep, me mette I was 
Within a temple y-mad of glas, 
In which ther were mo images 
Of gold, stonding in sondry stages, 
And mo riche tabernacles, 
And with perre mo pinacles, 
And mo curious portreytures, 
And queynte maner of figures 
Of olde werk then I saw evere. 
For certeynly I niste nevere 
Wher that I was, but wel wiste I 
Hit was of Venus redely 
The temple; for in portreyture 
I saw anoon-right hir figure 
Naked fleting in a see, 
And also on hir heed, parde, 
Hir rose-garlond whyt and reed, 
And hir comb to kembe hir heed, 
Hir dowves, and Daun Cupido, 
Hir blinde sone, and Vulcano, 
That in his face was ful broun. 

But as I romed up and doun, 
I fond that on a wal ther was 
Thus writen on a table of bras: 

Sk. 107-142 



143-180 THE HOUS OF FAME 31 

"I wol now singe, if that I can, 
The armes and also the man. 
That first cam through his destinee, 
Fugitif of Troye contree, 
In Itaile with moche pyne 
Unto the strondes of Lavyne." 
And tho began the story anoon, 
As I shal telle yow echoon. 

First saw I the destruccioun 
Of Troye through the Greek Sinoun, 
With his false forsweringe. 
And his chere and his lesinge, 
Made the hors broght into Troye, 
Thorgh which Troyens loste al hir loye. 
And after this was grave, alias! 
How Ilioun assailed was 
And wonne, and King Priam y-slain, 
And Polites his sone, certayn, 
Dispitously of Dan Pirrus. 

And next that saw I how Venus, 
Whan that she saw the castel brende, 
Doun fro the hevene gan descende 
And bad hir sone Eneas flee; 
And how he fledde, and how that he 
Escaped was from al the pres, 
And took his fader, Anchises, 
And bar him on his bak away. 
Crying, ''Alias, and welaway!" 
Ther saw I graven eek how he, 
His fader eek and his meynee, 
With his shippes gan to sayle 
Toward the contree of Itaile. 
Ther saw I swich tempest aryse 
That every herte mighte agryse 
To see hit peynted on the wal. 
Ther saw I graven eek withal, 
Venus, how ye, my lady dere, 
Weping with ful woful chere, 

Sk. 143-170: 193-196; 209-214 



32 CHAUCER 



181-218 



Prayen lupiter an hye 

To save and kepe that navye 

Of the Troyan Eneas 

Sith that he hir sone was. 

Ther saw I loves Venus kisse 

And graunted of the tempest Hsse. 

Ther saw I how the tempest stente, 

And how with alle pyne he wente 

And prevely took arrivage 

In the contree of Cartage. 

Ther saw I grave how Eneas 

Tolde Dido every cas 

That him was tid upon the see 

And after grave was how she 

Made of him, shortly, at oo word, 

Hir lyf, hir love, hir lust, hir lord: 

Lo, how a woman doth amis 

To love him that unknowen is! 

But let us speke of Eneas, 
How he betrayed hir, alias! 
And lefte hir ful unkindely. 
So whan she saw al-utterly 
That he wolde hir of trouthe faile, 
And wende fro hir to Itaile, 
She gan to wringe hir hondes two. 
''Alias!" quod she, "What me is wo!" 

Tho saw I grave al tharivaile 
That Eneas had in Itaile, 
And with King Latine his tretee. 
And alle the batailles that he 
Was at himself and eek his knightes 
Or he had al y-wonne his rightes, 
And how he Turnus ref te his lyf 
And wan Lavyna to his wyf , 
And al the mervelous signals 
Of the goddes celestials. 
How, maugre luno, Eneas, 
For al hir sleighte and hir compas, 

Sk. 215-224; 253-258; 269-270; 293-300; 451-462 



2t9-256 THE HOUS OF FAME 33 

Acheved al his aventure, 

For lupiter took of him cure 

At the prayere of Venus: 

The which I preye alway save us, 

And us ay of our sorwes Hghte! 

Whan I had seyen al this sighte 
In this noble temple thus, 
^'A, Lord!" thoughte I, "that madest us, 
Yet saw I nevere swich noblesse 
Of images ne swich richesse 
As I saw graven in this chirche; 
But not woot I who did hem wirche, 
Ne wher I am, ne in what contree. 
But now wol I go oute and see 
Right at the wiket if I can 
See o-wher stering any man 
That may me telle wher I am." 

Whan I out at the dores cam, 
I faste aboute me beheld. 
Then saw I but a large feld 
As fer as that I mighte see, 
Withouten toun, or hous, or tree. 
Or bush, or gras, or ered lond; 
For al the feld nas but of sond 
As smal as man may see yet lye 
In the desert of Libye. 
Ne I no maner creature 
That is y-formed by nature 
Ne saw I me to rede or wisse. 
''O Crist," thoughte I, 'Hhat art in blisse, 
Fro fantome and illusioun 
Me save!" and with devocioun 
Myn yen to the hevene I caste. 

Tho was I war, lo! at the laste, 
That faste by the sonne, as hye 
As kenne mighte I with myn ye, 
Me thoughte I saw an egle sore. 
But that hit semed moche more 

Sk. 463-500 



34 CHAUCER 257-284 

Then I had any egle seyn. 
But this as sooth as deeth, certeyn, 
Hit was of gold and shoon so brighte 
That nevere sawe men such a sighte 
But if the hevene had y-wonne 
Al newe of gold another sonne. 
So shoon the egles fethres brighte, 
And somewhat dounward gan hit lighte. 

ExpHcit liber primus. 

Book II 
Incipit liber secundus. 

Proem 

Now herkneth, every maner man 
That English understonde can, 
And listeth of my dreem to lere: 
For now at erste shul ye here 
So selly an avisioun 
That Isaye ne Scipioun 
Ne King Nabugodonosor, 
Pharo, Turnus, ne Eleanor, 
Ne mette swich a dreem as this! 
Now faire blisful, O Cipris, 
So be my favour at this tyme! 
And ye me to endyte and ryme 
Helpeth that on Parnaso dwelle 
By Ehcon the clere welle. 
O Thought, that wroot al that I mette, 
And in the tresorie hit shette 
Of my brayn ! now shal men see 
If any vertu in thee be 
To tellen al my dreem aright. 
Now kyth thyn engyn and might. 

Sk. 501-528 



285-319 THE HOUS OF FAME 35 



The Dream. 

This egle, of which I have yow told, 
That shoon with fethres as of gold, 
Which that so hye gan to sore, 
I gan beholde more and more. 
To see hir beautee and the wonder. 
But nevere was ther dint of thonder, 
Ne that thing that men calle foudre. 
That smoot somtyme a tour to poudre 
And in his swif te coming brende, 
That so swythe gan descende 
As this foul whan hit beheld 
That I a-roume was in the feld; 
And with his grimme pawes stronge 
Within his sharpe nayles longe 
Me, fleing, at a swap he hente, 
And with his sours agayn up wente 
Me carying in his clawes starke 
As lightly as I were a larke, — 
How high, I can not telle yow, 
For I cam up, I niste how. 
For so astonied and a-sweved 
Was every vertu in my heved. 
What with his sours and with my drede, 
That al my feling gan to dede. 
For- why hit was to greet affray. 

Thus I longe in his clawes lay 
Til at the laste he to me spak 
In mannes vois and seyde, "Awak! 
And be not so a-gast, for shame!" 
And called me tho by my name. 
And for I sholde the bet abreyde. 
Me mette ^'Awak!" to me he seyde 
Right in the same vois and stevene 
That useth oon I coude nevene; 
And with that vois, soth for to sayn, 

Sk. 529-563 



36 CHAUCER 320-357 

My minde cam to me agayn, 
For hit was goodly seyd to me, 
So nas hit nevere wont to be. 

And herwithal I gan to stere 
And he me in his feet to here 
Til that he felte that I hadde hete 
And felte eek tho myn herte bete. 
And tho gan he me to disporte 
And with wordes to comforte, 
And sayde twyes, "Seynte Marie! 
Thou are noyous for to carie, 
And nothing nedeth hit, parde! 
For al-so wis God helpe me 
As thou non harm shalt have of this; 
And this cas that betid thee is 
Is for thy lore and for thy prow. 
Let see! darst thou yet loke now? 
Be ful assured, boldely, — 
I am thy frend." And therwith I 
Gan for to wondren in my minde. 
"O God," thoughte I, ''that madest kinde, 
Shal I non other weyes dye? 
Wher loves wol me stelHfye 
Or what thing may this signifye? 
I neither am Enok, ne Elye, 
Ne Romulus, ne Ganymede 
That was y-bore up, as men rede, 
To hevene with Dan lupiter 
And maad the goddes boteler." 

Lo! this was tho my fantasye! 
But he that bar me gan espye 
That I so thoghte, and seyde this: 
"Thou demest of thy-self amis; 
For loves is not ther-aboute 
(I dar wel putt? thee out of doute) 
To make of thee as yet a sterre. 
But er I ber? thee moche ferre, 
I wol thee telle what I am 

Sk. 564-601 



358-395 THE ROUS OF FAME 37 

And whider thou shall and why I cam 

To done this, so that thou take 

Good herte and not for fere quake." 

"Gladly," quod I. ''Now wel," quod he, 

"First I that in my feet have thee. 

Of which thou hast a fere and wonder, 

Am dwelling with the god of thonder. 

Which that men callen lupiter. 

That dooth me flee ful of te fer 

To done al his comaundement. 

And for this cause he hath me sent 

To thee: now herke, by thy trouthe! — 

Certeyn, he hath of thee routhe . . 

That thou so longe trewely ' 

Hast served so ententifly 

His bhnde nevew Cupido, 

And faire Venus goddesse also, 

Withoute guerdoun ever yit, 

And nevertheles hast set thy wit — 

Although that in thy heed ful lyte is — 

To make bokes, songes, dytees. 

In ryme or elles in cadence. 

As thou best canst, in reverence 

Of Love and of his servants eke 

That have his servise soght and seke; 

And peynest thee to preyse his art, 

Althogh thou haddest nevere part: 

Wherfore, also God me blesse, 

loves halt hit greet humblesse 

And vertu eek that thou wolt make 

A-night ful of te thyn heed to ake, 

In thy studie so thou wrytest 

And evere-mo of love endytest 

In honour of him and preysinges, 

And in his folkes furtheringes. 

And in hir matere al devysest 

And noght him nor his folk despysest, 

Although thou mayst go in the daunce 

Sk. 602-639 



38 CHAUCER 395-433 

Of hem that him Hst not avaunce. 

"Wherfore, as I seyde, y-wis, 
lupiter considereth this 
And also, beau sir, other thinges: 
That is, that thou hast no tydinges 
Of Loves folk, if the}^ be glade, 
Ne of noght elles that God made; 
And noght only fro fer contree 
That ther no tydinge comth to thee, 
But of thy verray neyghebores. 
That dwellen almost at thy dores. 
Thou herest neither that ne this. 
For whan thy labour doon al is. 
And hast y-maad thy rekeninges. 
In stede of reste and newe thinges 
Thou gost hoom to thy hous anoon, 
And also domb as any stoon 
Thou sittest at another book 
Til fully daswed is thy look. 
And livest thus as an hermyte, 
Although thyn abstinence is lyte. 

''And therfore loves through his grace 
Wol that I bere thee to a place 
Which that hight THE HOUS OF FAM 
To do thee som disport and game 
In som recompensacioun 
Of labour and devocioun /\ 



y 



That thou hast had, lo! causeles,*^ (Js^^^u^- 

To Cupido, the reccheles! 

And thus this god thorgh his meryte 

Wol with som maner thing thee quyte, 

So that thou wolt be of good chere. 

For truste wel that thou shalt here. 

When we be comen ther I seye. 

Mo wonder thinges, dar I leye, 

And of Loves folk mo tydinges,^ 

Bothe s6th-saw6s and lesinges; --'^^ 

And mo loves newe begonne. 



-^ 



Sk. 640-677 



^^.C^" 



THE HOUS OF FAME 39 

And longe y-served loves wonne, 

And mo loves casuelly 

That ben betid, no man wot why, 

But as a blind man stert an hare; 

And more lolytee and fare, 

Whyl that they finde love of stele, 

As thinketh hem, and over-al wele; 

Mo discords and mo lelousyes. 

Mo murmurs and mo novelryes, 

And mo dissimulaciouns 

And feyned reparaciouns; 

And mo berdes in two houres 

Withoute rasour or sisoures 

Y-maad, then greynes be of sondes* rJ^JL, AiH*"^^ 

And eke mo holding in hondes; l^^^ ' "q 

And also mo renovelaunces 

Of olde fotteten aqueyntaunces; 

Mo love-dayes and acordes 

Then on instruments ben cordes; 

And eek of loves mo eschaunges ^ .^^^^ 

Than evere cornes were in graunges: — ]/-/,. 

Unethe maistow troweh this?" 

Quod he, ''No, helpe me God so wis!" — 

Quod I. "No? Why?" quod he. ''For hit 

Were impossible to my wit, 

Though that Fame had al the pyes 

In al a realme, and al the spyes. 

How that yet she shulde here al this 

Or they espye hit." "Oyis, yis!" 

Quod he to me, "that can I preve 

By resoun worthy for to leve, 

So that thou yeve thyn advertence 

To understonde my sentence. 

"First shalt thou heren wher she dwelleth: 
And so thyn owne book hit telleth, 
Hir paleys stant, as I shal seye. 
Right even in middes of the weye 
Betwixen hevene, erthe, and see. 



40 CHAUCER 472-S09 

That what-so-evere in al these three 
Is spoken in privee or apert,o k^-^-^ ^[ 
The way therto is so overt -y^'-^^^^ 
And stant eek in so luste a place 
That every soun mot to hit pace, 
Or what so comth fro any tonge, 
Be hit rouned, red, or songe. 
Or spoke in seurtee or drede, 
Certein, hit moste thider nede. •-♦^vi^^'*"^*'^ 

''Now herkne wel, for- why I wil 
Tellen thee a propre skil 
And worthy demons tracioun 
In myn imaginacioun. 

"Geffrey, thou wost right wel this, 
That every kindly thing that is 
Hath a kindly st^He ther he 
May best in hit conserved be. 
Unto which place every thing. 
Through his kindly enclyning, 
Moveth for to come to 
Whan that hit is awey therfro. 
As thus: lo, thou mayst al day see 
That any thing that hevy be, 
As stoon or leed or thing of wighte. 
And ber hit nevere so hye on highte, 
Lat go thyn hand, hit falleth doun. 
Right so seye I by fyre or soun 
Or smoke or other thinges hghte, 
Alwey they seke upward on highte; 
Whyl ech of hem is at his large, 
Light thing up, and dounward charge. 

"And for this cause mayst thou see 
That every river to the see 
Enclyned is to go by kinde. 
And by these skilles, as I finde. 
Hath fish dwelling in flood and see, 
And trees eek in erthe be. 
Thus every thing by this resoun 

Sk. 716-753 



510-547 THE HOUS OF FAME 41 

Hath his propre mansioun, 

To which hit seketh to repaire 

As ther hit shulde not apaire. 

Lo, this sentence is knowen couth A^ -^^-^ ■ 

Of every philosophres mouth, 

As Aristotle and Dan Platon 

And other clerkes many oon. 

And to confirme my resoun, 

Thou wost wel this, that speche is soun, 

Or elles no man mighte hit here. 

Now herke what I wol thee lere. 

"Soun is noght but air y-broken; 
And every speche that is spoken, 
Loud or privee, foul or fair, 
In his substaunce is but air. 
For as flaumbe is but lighted smoke. 
Right so soun is air y-broke. 
But this may be in many wyse, 
Of which I wil thee two devyse. 
As soun that comth of pype or harpe. 
For whan a pype is blowen sharpe. 
The air is twist with violence 
And rent: lo, this is my sentence; 
Eek, whan men harpe-stringes smyte, 
Whether hit be moche or lyte, 
Lo, with the strook the air to-breketh. 
Right so hit breketh whan men speketh: 
Thus wost thou wel what thing is speche. 

''Now hennesforth I wol thee teche 
How every speche or noise or soun 
Through his multiplicacioun, 
Thogh hit were pyped of a mous, 
Moot nede come to Fames Hous. 
I preve hit thus — tak hede now — 
By experience : for if that thou 
Throwe on water now a stoon, 
Wel wost thou hit wol make anoon 
A Htel roundel as a cercle, 

Sk. 754-791 



42 CHAUCER 



548-585 



Para venture brood as a covercle; 

And right anoon thou shalt see weel, 

That wheel wol cause another wheel, 

And that the thridde and so forth, brother, 

And every cercle causing other, 

Wyder than himselve was. 

And thus, fro roundel to compas, 

Ech aboute other goinge. 

Caused of othres steringe, 

And multiplying evere-mo 

Til that hit be so fer y-go 

That hit at bothe brinkes be. 

Al-thogh thou mowe hit not y-see 

Above, hit goth yet alway under, 

Although thou thenke hit a gret wonder. 

And who-so seith of trouthe I varie, 

Bid him proven the contrarie. 

And right thus every word, y-wis, 

That loude or privee spoken is, 

Moveth first an air aboute, 

And of this moving, out of doute, 

Another air anoon is meved. 

As I have of the water preved 

That every cercle causeth other, 

Right so of air, my leve brother: 

Everich air in other stereth 

More and more, and speche up bereth, 

Or vois or noise or word or soun, 

Ay through multiplicacioun. 

Til hit be atte Hous of Fame: — 

Tak hit in ernest or in game. 

"Now have I told, if thou have minde, 
How speche or soun, of pure kinde, 
Enclyned is upward to meve. 
This, mayst thou fele, wel I preve. 
And that same place, y-wis. 
That every thing enclyned to is, 
Hath his kindeliche stede: 

Sk. 792-829 



THE ROUS OF FAME 43 



That sheweth hit, withouten drede, 
That kindely the mansioun 
Of every speche, of every soun, 
Be hit either foul or fair, 
Hath his kinde place in air. 
And sin that every thing that is 
Out of his kinde place, y-wis, 
Moveth thider for to go 
If hit a-weye be therfro. 
As I before have preved thee, 
Hit seweth, every soun, pardee, 
Moveth kindely to pace 
Al up into his kindely place. 
And this place of which I telle, 
Ther as Fame list to dwelle. 
Is set amiddes of these three, 
Hevene, erthe, and eek the see, 
As most conservatif the soun. 
Than is this the conclusioun. 
That every speche of every man, 
As I thee telle first began, 
Moveth up on high to pace 
Kindely to Fames place. 

''Telle me this feithfully:— 
Have I not preved thus simply, 
Withouten any subtiltee 
Of speche, or gret prolixitee 
Of termes of philosophye. 
Of figures of poetrye, 
Or colours of rethoryke? 
Pardee, hit oghte thee to lyke; 
For hard langage and hard matere 
Is encombrous for to here 
Atones. Wost thou not wel this? " 
And I answerde, and seyde, "Yis." 

''A ha!" quod he, "lo, so I can, 
Lewedly to a lewed man 
Speke, and shewe him swiche skiles 

Sk. 830-867 



44 CHAUCER 624-661 

That he may shake hem by the biles, 

So palpable they shulden be. 

But telle me this, now pray I thee. 

How thinkth thee my conclusioun?'' 

Quod he. "A good persuasioun," 

Quod I, ''hit is, and lyk to be 

Right so as thou hast preved me." 

"By God," quod he, "and as I leve, 

Thou shalt have yit, or hit be eve, 

Of every word of this sentence 

A preve, by experience. 

And with thyn eres heren wel 

Top and tail and everydel. 

That every word that spoken is 

Comth into Fames Hous, y-wis, 

As I have seyd: what wilt thou more?" 

And with this word upper to sore 

He gan, and seyde, "By Seynt lame! 

Now wil we speken al of game." — 

"How farest thou?" quod he to me. 
"Wel," quod I. "Now see," quod he, 
" By thy trouthe, yond adoun, 
Wher that thou knowest any toun 
Or hous or any other thing. 
And whan thou hast of ought knowing 
Loke that thou warne me, 
And I anoon shal telle thee 
How fer that thou art now therfro." 

And I adoun gan loken tho 
And beheld feldes and plaines, 
And now hilles and now mountaines, 
Now valeys, and now forestes. 
And now, unethes, grete bestes, 
Now riveres, now citees. 
Now tounes, and now grete trees, 
Now shippes sailing in the see. 

But thus sone in a whyle he 
Was flowen fro the grounde so hye 

Sk. 868-905 



THE HOUS OF FAME 45 

That al the world, as to myn ye, 

No more semed than a prikke. 

Or elles was the air so thikke 

That I ne mighte not discerne. 

With that he spak to me as yerne, 

And seyde, "Sees tow any toun 

Or ought thou knowest yonder doun? " 

I seyde, "Nay." "No wonder nis," 
Quod he, "for half so high as this 
Nas Alexander Macedo; 
Ne the king, Dan Scipio, 
That saw in dreem, at point devys, 
Helle and erthe and paradys; 
Ne eek the wrecche Dedalus, 
Ne his child, nyce Icarus, 
That fleigh so highe that the hete 
His winges malt, and he fel wete 
In-mid the see, and ther he dreynte. 
For whom was maked moche compleynte. 

"Now turn upward," quod he, " thy face. 
And behold this large place. 
This air. But loke thou ne be 
Adrad of hem that thou shalt see; 
For in this regioun, certein, 
Dwelleth many a citezein. 
Of which that speketh Dan Plato. 
These ben the eyrishe bestes, lo!" 
And so saw I al that meynee 
Bothe goon and also flee. 
"Now," quod he tho, " cast up thyn ye! 
See yonder, lo, the galaxye, 
Which men clepeth the Milky Wey, 
For hit is whyt; and somme, parfey, 
Callen hit Watlinge Strete, 
That ones was y-brent with hete 
Whan the sonnes sone, the rede, 
That highte Pheton, wolde lede 
Algate his fader carte, and gye. 



46 CHAUCER 700-737 

The carte-hors gonne wel espye 

That he ne coude no governaunce, 

And gonne for to lepe and launce, 

And beren him now up, now doun, 

Til that he saw the Scorpioun, 

Which that in hevene a signe is yit. 

And he for ferde loste his wit 

Of that, and leet the reynes goon 

Of his hors; and they anoon 

Gonne up to mounte and doun descende 

Til bothe the eyr and erthe brende, 

Til lupiter, lo, atte laste. 

Him slow and fro the carte caste. 

Lo, is it not a greet mischaunce 

To lete a fool han governaunce 

Of thing that he can not demeine?" 

And with this word, soth for to seyne, 
He gan alway upper to sore, 
And gladded me ay more and more, 
So feithfully to me spak he. 

Tho gan I loken under me. 
And beheld the eyrishe bestes, 
Cloudes, mistes, and tempestes, 
Snowes, hailes, reines, windes, 
And thengendring in hir kindes. 
And al the wey through which I cam. 
"O God," quod I, "that made Adam, 
Moche is thy might and thy noblesse!" 

And tho thoughte I upon Boece, 
That writ, "A thought may flee so hye. 
With fetheres of Philosophy e. 
To passen everich element; 
And whan he hath so fer y-went. 
Than may be seen, behind his bak, 
Cloude and al that I of spak." 

Tho gan I wexen in a wer. 
And seyde, "I woot wel I am heer; 
But wher in body or in gost 

Sk. 944-981 



738-775 THE HOUS OF FAME 47 

I noot, y-wis: but God, thou wost!" 
For more cleer entendement 
Nad he me nevere yit y-sent. 
And than thoughte I on Marcian, 
And eek on Anteclaudian, 
That sooth was hir descripcioun 
Of al the hevenes regioun 
As fer as that I saw the preve. 
Therfore I can hem now beleve. 

With that this egle gan to crye: 'V, 

''Lat be," quod he, "thy fantasye! 
Wilt thou lere of sterres aught?" 
''Nay, certeinly," quod I, "right naught." 
"And why?" " For I am now to old." 
"Elles I wolde thee have told," 
Quod he, "the sterres names, lo. 
And alle the hevenes signes to. 
And which they been." "No fors," quod I. 
" Yis, pardee," quod he; "wostow why? 
For whan thou redest poetrye, 
How goddes gonne steUifye 
Brid, fish, beest, or him or here, 
As the Raven, or either Bere, 
Or Ariones harpe fyn. 
Castor, Pollux, or Delphyn, 
Or Atlantes doughtres sevene, 
How alle these arn set in hevene: 
For though thou have hem of te on honde, 
Yet nostow not wher that they stonde." 
"No fors," quod I, "hit is no nede. 
I leve as wel, so God me spede, 
Hem that wryte of this matere 
As though I knew hir places here. 
And eek they shynen here so brighte. 
Hit shulde shenden al my sighte 
To loke on hem." "That may wel be," 
Quod he. And so forth bar he me 
A whyle, and than he gan to crye 

Sk. 982-1019 



48 CHAUCER 776-813 

That nevere herde I thing so hye, 
"Now up the heed, for al is wel; 
Seynt luHan, lo, bon hostel! 
See here the Hous of Fame, lo! 
Maistow not heren that I do?" 
"What?" quod I. "The grete soun," 
Quod he, " that rumbleth up and doun 
In Fames Hous, ful of tydinges, 
Bothe of faire speche and chydinges, 
And of false and soth^ compouned. 
Herkne wel. Hit is not rouned. 
Herestow not the grete swogh?" 
"Yis, pardee," quod I, "wel y-nogh." 
"And what soun is it lyk?" quod he. 
"Peter! lyk beting of the see," 
Quod I, "again the roches holowe 
Whan tempest doth the shippes swalowe, 
And lat a man stonde, out of doute, 
A myle thens and here hit route; 
Or elles lyk the last humblinge 
After the clappe of a thundringe, 
Whan loves hath the air y-bete. 
But hit doth me for fere swete!" 
"Nay, dred thee not therof," quod he, 
"Hit is nothing wil byten thee. 
Thou shalt non harm have, trewely." 

And with this word bothe he and I 
As nigh the place arryved were 
As men may casten with a spere. 
I niste how, but in a strete I 

He sette me faire on my fete, 1 

And seyde, "Walke forth a pas, 
And tak thyn aventure or cas 
That thou shalt finde in Fames place." 

"Now," quod I, "whyl we han space 
To speke, or that I go fro thee. 
For the love of God, telle me. 
In sooth, that wil I of thee lere, 

Sk. 1020-1057 



814-846 THE HOUS OF FAME 49 

If this noise that I here 

Be, as I have herd thee tellen, 

Of folk that doun in erthe dwellen, 

And comth heer in the same wyse 

As I thee herde or this devyse; 

And that ther lyves body nis 

In al that hous that yonder is, 

That maketh al this loude fare?" 

"Now," quod he, ''by Seynte Clare, 

And also wis God rede me! 

But o thing I wil warne thee 

Of the which thou wolt have wonder. 

Lo, to the Hous of Fame yonder 

Thou wost how cometh every speche; 

Hit nedeth noght thee eft to teche. 

But understond now right wel this: 

Whan any speche y-comen is 

Up to the paleys, anon-right 

Hit wexeth lyk the same wight 

Which that the word in erthe spak. 

Be hit clothed reed or blak, 

And hath so verray his lyknesse 

That spak the word, that thou wilt gesse 

That hit the same body be, 

Man or woman, he or she. 

And is not this a wonder thing?" 

"Yis," quod I tho, ''by Hevene-king!" 

And with this word, "Farwel," quod he, 

"And heer I wol abyden thee. 

And God of hevene sende thee grace 

Som good to lernen in this place." 

And I of him took leve anoon, 

And gan forth to the paleys goon. 

Explicit liber secundus. 

Sk. 1058-1090 



50 CHAUCER 847-875 

Book III 
Incipit liber tercius. 

Invocation 

god of science and of light, 
Apollo, through thy grete might, 
This litel laste book thou gye! 
Nat that I wilne for maistrye 
Heer art poetical be shewed. 

But, for the rym is light and lewed, 
Yit make hit sumwhat agreable 
Though som vers faile in a Billable; 
And that I do no diligence 
To shewe craft, but o sentence. 
And if, divyne vertu, thou 
Wilt helpe me to shewe now 
That in myn heed y-marked is 
(Lo, that is for to menen this, 
The Hous of Fame to descryve) 
Thou shalt see me go as blyve 
Unto the nexte laure I see 
And kisse hit, for hit is thy tree. 
Now entreth in my brest anoon! — 

The Dream 

Whan I was fro this egle goon, 

1 gan beholde upon this place. 
And certein, or I ferther pace, 
I wol yow al the shap devyse 

Of hous and site, and al the wyse 
How I gan to this place aproche 
That stood upon so high a roche, 
Hyer stant ther noon in Spaine. 
But up I clomb with alle paine; 
And though to climbe hit greved me, 

Sk. 1091-1119 



876-913 THE HOUS OF FAME 51 

Yit I ententif was to see 
And for to pouren wonder lowe 
If I coude any weyes knowe 
What maner stoon this roche was. 
For hit was lyk a thing of glas 
But that hit shoon ful more clere. 
But of what congeled matere 
Hit was, I niste redely. 

But at the laste espyed I, 
And found that hit was every deel 
A roche of yse and not of steel. 
Thoughte I, ''By Seynt Thomas of Kent! 
This were a feble foundement 
To bilden on a place hye. 
He oughte him litel glorifye 
That her-on bilte, God so me save!" 

Tho saw I al the half y-grave 
With famous folkes names fele, 
That had y-been in mochel wele, 
And hir fames wyde y-blowe. 
But wel unethes coude I knowe 
Any lettres for to rede 
Hir names by; for out of drede 
They were almost of-thowed so 
That of the lettres oon or two 
Was molte away of every name: 
So unfamous was wexe hir fame. 
But men seyn, ''What may evere laste?" 

Tho gan I in myn herte caste 
That they were molte awey with hete 
And not awey with stormes bete. 
For on that other syde I sey 
Of this hil that northward lay, 
How hit was writen ful of names 
Of folk that hadden grete fames 
Of olde tyme, and yit they were 
As fresshe as men had writen hem there 
That selve day right, or that houre 

Sk. 1120-1157 



52 CHAUCER 

That I upon hem gan to poure. 
But wel I wiste what hit made. 
Hit was conserved with the shade — 
Al this wryting that I sy — 
Of a castel, that stood on hy, 
And stood eek on so cold a place 
That hete mighte hit not deface. 

Tho gan I up the hil to goon, 
And fond upon the cop a woon, 
That alle the men that ben on lyve 
Ne han the cunning to descryve 
The beautee of that ilke place, 
Ne coude casten to compace 
Swich another for to make 
That mighte of beautee be his make 
Ne so wonderliche y- wrought: 
That hit astonieth yit my thought 
And maketh al my wit to swinke 
On this castel to bethinke. 
So that the grete beautee. 
The cast, the curiositee, 
Ne can I not to yow devyse. 
My wit ne may me not suffyse. 

But natheles al the substance 
I have yit in my remembrance. 
For- why me thoughte, by Seynt Gyle! 
Al was of stone of beryle, 
Bothe the castel and the tour. 
And eek the halle and every hour, 
Withouten peces or loininges. 
But many subtil compassinges, 
Babewinnes and pinacles, 
Imageries and tabernacles, 
I saw; and ful eek of windowes, 
As flakes falle in grete snowes. 
And eek in ech of the pinacles 
Weren sondry habitacles, 
In which stoden, al withoute. 



914-951 



Sk. 1158-U95 



352-989 THE HOUS OF FAME 53 

Ful the castel al aboute 
Of alle maner of minstrales, 
And gestiours, that tellen tales 
Bothe of weping and of game, 
Of al that longeth unto fame. 

Ther herde I pleyen on an harpe, 
That souned bothe wel and sharpe, 
Orpheus ful craftely, 
And on his syde, faste by, 
Sat the harper Orion, 
And Eacides Chiron, 
And other harpers many oon, 
And the Bret Glascurion. 
And smale harpers with her glees 
Seten under hem in sees, 
And gonne on hem upward to gape. 
And countrefete hem as an ape, 
Or as craft countrefeteth kinde. 

Tho saugh I stonden hem behinde, 
A-fer fro hem, al by hemselve. 
Many thousand tymes twelve, 
That maden loude menstralcyes 
In comemuse, and shalmyes. 
And many other maner pype. 
That craftely begunne pype 
Bothe in doucet and in rede. 
That ben at festes with the brede; 
And many fioute and lilting-horn. 
And pypes made of grene corn. 
As han thise htel herde-gromes 
That kepen bestes in the bromes. 

Ther saugh I than Atiteris, 
And of Athenes Dan Pseustis, 
And Marcia that lost her skin 
Bothe in face, body, and chin. 
For that she wolde envyen, lo! 
To pypen bet then Apollo. 
Ther saugh I famous, olde and yonge, 

Sk. 1196-1233 



54 CHAUCER 

Pypers of the Duche tonge 
To lerne love-daunces, springes, 
Reyes, and these straunge thinges. 

Tho saugh I in another place 
Stonden in a large space 
Of hem that maken blody soun 
In trumpe, heme, and clarioun. 
For in fight and blood-shedinge 
Is used gladly clarioninge. 

Ther herde I trumpen Messenus, 
Of whom that speketh Virgilius. 
Ther herde I loab trumpe also, 
Theodomas, and other mo. 
And alle that used clarion 
In Cataloigne and Aragon, 
That in hir tyme famous were 
To lerne, saugh I trumpe there. 

Ther saugh I sitte in other sees, 
Pleying upon sondry glees, 
Whiche that I cannot nevene. 
Mo then sterres been in hevene. 
Of which I nil as now not ryme. 
For ese of yow and los of tyme. 
For tyme y-lost, this knowen ye. 
By no way may recovered be. 

Ther saugh I pleyen logelours, 
Magiciens and tregetours, 
And phitonesses, charmeresses, 
Olde wicches, sorceresses. 
That use exorsisaciouns 
And eek thise fumigaciouns; 
And clerkes eke, which conne wel 
Al this magyk naturel, 
That craf tely don hir ententes 
To make in certeyn ascendentes 
Images, lo! through which magyk 
To make a man ben hool or syk I 
Ther saugh I thee. Queen Medea, 



990-1027 



Sk. 1234-1271 



1028-1065 THE HOUS OF FAME , 55 

And Circes eek, and Calipsa. 
Ther saugh I Hermes Ballenus, 
Lymote, and eek Simon Magus. 
Ther saugh I and knew hem by name 
That by such art don men han fame. 
Ther saugh I CoUe tregetour 
Upon a table of sicamour 
Pleye an uncouth thing to telle: 
I saugh him carien a wind-melle 
Under a walsh-note shale. 

What shuld I make lenger tale 
Of al the peple that I say, 
Fro hennes in-to domesday? 

Whan I had al this folk beholde, 
And fond me lous and noght y-holde, 
And eft y-mused longe whyle 
Upon these walles of beryle, 
That shoon ful lighter than a glas, 
And made wel more than hit was 
To semen every thing, y-wis, 
As kinde thing of fames is, 
I gan forth romen til I fond 
The castel-yate on my right hond, 
Which that so wel corven was 
That nevere swich another nas, 
And yit hit was by aventure 
Y-wrought as often as by cure. 

Hit nedeth noght yow for to tellen, 
To make yow to longe dwellen. 
Of this yates florisshinges, 
Ne of compasses, ne of kervinges, 
Ne how they hatte in masoneries, 
As corbets fulle of imageries. 
But Lord! so fair hit was to shewe, 
For hit was al with gold behewe. 
But in I wente and that anoon; 
Ther mette I crying many oon: 
"A largesse, largesse, hold up wel! 

Sk. 1272-1309 



56 CHAUCER 1066-1103 

God save the lady of this pel, 
Our owne gentil lady Fame, 
And hem that wilnen to hav? name 
Of us!" Thus herde I cryen alle, 
And faste comen out of halle 
And shoken nobles and sterlinges. 
And somme crouned were as kinges 
With crounes wrought ful of losenges; 
And many riban and many frenges 
Were on hir clothes trewely. 

Tho atte laste aspyed I 
That pursevauntes and heraudes, 
That cryen riche folkes laudes. 
Hit weren alle. And every man 
Of hem, as I yow tellen can. 
Had on him throwen a vesture. 
Which that men clepe a cote-armure, 
Enbrowded wonderliche riche 
Al-though they nere nought y-liche. 
But noght nil I, so mote I thryve. 
Been aboute to discryve 
Al these armes that ther weren. 
That they thus on hir cotes beren. 
For hit to me were impossible. 
Men mighte make of hem a bible 
Twenty foot thikke, as I trowe. 
For certeyn, who-so coude y-knowe 
Mighte ther alle the armes seen 
Of famous folk that han y-been 
In Auffrike, Europe, and Asye, 
Sith first began the chevalrye. 

Lo! how shulde I now telle al this? 
Ne of the halle eek what nede is 
To tellen yow, that every wal 
Of hit, and floor, and roof and al 
Was plated half a fote thikke 
Of gold, and that nas no-thing wikke, 
But, for to prove in alle wyse, 

Sk. 1310-1347 



1104-1141 THE HOUS OF FAME 57 

As fyn as ducat in Venyse, 
Of which to lyte al in my pouche is? 
And they were set as thikke of nouchis 
Fulle of the fynest stones faire, 
That men rede in the Lapidaire, 
As greses growen in a mede. 
But hit were al to longe to rede 
The names, and therfore I pace. 

But in this riche lusty place, 
That Fames halle called was, 
Ful moche prees of folk ther nas, 
Ne crouding for to mochil prees. 
But al on hye, above a dees, 
Sitte in a see imperial. 
That maad was of a rubee al 
Which that a carbuncle is y-called, 
I saugh, perpetually y-stalled, 
A feminyne creature. 
That nevere formed by nature 
Nas swich another thing y-seye. 
For altherfirst, soth for to seye. 
Me thoughte that she was so lyte 
That the lengthe of a cubyte 
Was lenger than she semed be; 
But thus sone in a whyle she 
Hir tho so wonderliche streighte 
That with hir feet she therthe reighte, 
And with hir heed she touched hevene, 
Ther as shynen sterres sevene. 
And ther-to eek, as to my wit, 
I saugh a gretter wonder yit, 
Upon hir eyen to beholde. 
But certeyn I hem nevere tolde; 
For as fele eyen hadde she 
As fetheres upon foules be, 
Or weren on the bestes foure 
That Goddes trone gunne honoure 
As lohn writ in thapocalips. 

Sk. 1348-1385 



58 CHAUCER 1142-1179 

Hir heer, that oundy was and crips, 
As burned gold hit shoon to see. 
And sooth to tellen, also she 
Had also fele up-stonding eres 
And tonges as on bestes heres. 
And on hir feet wexen saugh I 
Partriches winges redely. 

But Lord! the perrie and the richesse 
I saugh sitting on this goddesse! 
And Lord! the hevenish melodye 
Of songes, ful of armonye, 
I herde aboute her trone y-songe, 
That al the paleys-walles ronge! 
So song the mighty Muse, she 
That cleped is Caliopee, 
And hir eighte sustren eke, 
That in hir face semen meke. 
And everemo, eternally, 
They songe of Fame, as tho herde I: 
" Heried be thou and thy name, 
Goddesse of renoun and of fame!" 

Tho was I war, lo! atte laste, 
As I myn eyen gan up caste, 
That this ilke noble quene 
On hir shuldres gan sustene 
Bothe tharmes and the name 
Of tho that hadde large fame: 
Alexander, and Hercules 
That with a sherte his lyf lees! 
And thus fond I sitting this goddesse 
In nobleye, honour, and richesse, 
Of which I stinte a whyle now. 
Other thing to tellen yow. 

Tho saugh I stonde on either syde, 
Streight doun to the dores wyde 
Fro the dees, many a pileer 
Of metal, that shoon not ful cleer. 
But though they nere of no richesse, 

Sk. 1386-1423 



1180-1217 THE HOUS OF FAME 59 

Yet they were maad for greet noblesse, 
And in hem greet and hy sentence. 
And folk of digne reverence, 
Of which I wol yow telle fonde, 
Upon the piler saugh I stonde. 

Alderfirst, lo! ther I sigh. 
Upon a piler stonde on high. 
That was of leed and yren fyn, 
Him of secte Saturnyn, 
The Ebrayk losephus, the olde, 
That of lewes gestes tolde; 
And bar upon his shuldres hye 
The fame up of the lewerye. 
And by him stoden other sevene, 
Wyse and worthy for to nevene. 
To helpen him bere up the charge, 
Hit was so hevy and so large. 
And for they writen of batailes 
As wel as other olde mervailes. 
Therefore was, lo, this pileer. 
Of which that I yow telle heer 
Of leed and yren bothe, y-wis. 
For yren Martes metal is. 
Which that god is of bataile; 
And the leed, withouten faile. 
Is, lo, the metal of Saturne, 
That hath ful large wheel to turne. 
Tho stoden forth, on every rowe. 
Of hem which that I coude knowe, 
Thogh I hem noght by ordre telle 
To make yow to longe to dwelle. 

These, of which I ginne rede, 
Ther saugh I stonden, out of drede. 
Upon an yren piler strong, 
That peynted was al endelong 
With tygres blood in every place. 
The Tholosan that highte Stace, 
That bar of Thebes up the fame 

Sk.1424-1461 



60 CHAUCER 1218-1255 

Upon his shuldres, and the name 
Also of cruel Achilles. 
And by him stood, withouten lees, 
Ful wonder hye on a pileer 
Of yren, he, the grete Omeer, 
And with him Dares and Tytus 
Before, and eek he LolHus, 
And Guido eek de Columpnis, 
And English Gaufride eek, y-wis. 
And ech of these, as have I loye, 
Was besy for to here up Troye. 
So hevy ther-of was the fame 
That for to here hit was no game. 
But yit I gan ful wel espye, 
Betwix hem was a litel envye. 
Oon seyde, Omer made lyes, 
Feyning in his poetryes, 
And was to Grekes favorable: 
Therfore held he hit but fable. 

Tho saugh I stonde on a pileer, 
That was of tinned yren cleer. 
That Latin poete, Virgyle, 
That bore hath up a longe whyle 
The fame of Pius Eneas. 

And next him on a piler was 
Of coper, Venus clerk, Ovyde, 
That hath y-sowen wonder wyde 
The grete god of Loves name. 
And ther he bar up wel his fame, 
Upon this piler, also hye 
As I might see hit with myn ye: 
For-why this halle, of which I rede 
Was woxe on highte, lengthe and brede, 
Wel more by a thousand del 
Than hit was erst, that saugh I wel. 

Tho saugh I on a piler by. 
Of yren wroght ful sternely. 
The grete poete, Daun Lucan, 

Sk. 1462-1499 



1256-1293 THE HOUS OF FAME 61 

And on his shuldres bar up than 
As highe as that I mighte see 
The fame of luHus and Pompee. 
And by him stoden alle these clerkes 
That writen of Romes mighty werkes, 
That, if I wolde hir names telle, 
Al to longe moste I dwelle. 

And next him on a piler stood 
Of soulfre, lyk as he were wood, 
Dan Claudian, the soth to telle, 
That bar up al the fame of helle, 
Of Pluto, and of Proserpyne, 
That quene is of the derke pyne. 

What shulde I more telle of this? 
The halle was al ful, y-wis, 
Of hem that writen olde gestes, 
As ben on trees rokes nestes. 
But hit a ful confus matere 
Were al the gestes for to here. 
That they of write, and how they highte. 
But whyl that I beheld this sighte, 
I herde a noise aprochen blyve 
That ferde as been don in an hyve 
Agen her tyme of out-fleyinge. 
Right swich a maner murmuringe 
For al the world hit semed me. 

Tho gan I loke aboute and see 
That ther com entring into the halle 
A right gret company with-alle. 
And that of sondry regiouns, 
Of alleskinnes condiciouns 
That dwelle in erthe under the mone, 
Pore and ryche. And also sone 
As they were come into the halle. 
They gonne doun on knees falle 
Before this ilke noble qu^ne 
And seyde, " Graunte us, lady shene, 
Ech of us, of thy grace, a bone!" 

Sk. 1500-1537 



62 CHAUCER 1294-1331 

And somme of hem she graunted sone; 

And somme she werned wel and faire; 

And somme she graunted the contraire 

Of hir axing utterly. 

But thus I seye yow trewely, 

What hir cause was, I niste. 

For this folk, ful wel I wiste. 

They hadde good fame ech deserved, 

Althogh they were diversly served: 

Right as hir suster, Dame Fortune, 

Is wont to serven in comune. 

Now herkne how she gan to paye 
That gonne hir of hir grace praye; 
And yit, lo, al this companye 
Seyden sooth and noght a lye. 

''Madame," seyden they, "we be 
Folk that heer besechen thee 
That thou graunte us now good fame, 
And lete our werkes han that name. 
In ful recompensacioun 
Of good werk, yef us good renoun." 

''I werne yow hit," quod she anoon. 
*' Ye gete of me good fame noon, 
By God! and therfore go your wey." 
"Alas," quod they, "and welaway! 
Telle us what may your cause be?" 
"For me list hit noght," quod she. 

" No wight shal speke of yow, y-wis. 

Good ne harm, ne that ne this." 

And with that word she gan to calle 

Hir messager, that was in halle. 

And bad that he shulde faste goon, 

Up peyne to be bHnd anoon, 

For Eolus, the god of winder — 

"In Trace ther ye shul him finde, 

And bid him bringe his clarioun, 

That is ful dyvers of his soun, 

And hit is cleped Clere Laude, 

Sk. 1538-1575 



1332-1369 THE HOUS OF FAME 63 

With which he wont is to heraude 

Hem that me Kst y-preised be. 

And also bid him how that he 

Bringe his other clarioun, 

That highte Sclaundre in every toun, 

With which he wont is to diffame 

Hem that me Hst, and do hem shame." 

This messager gan faste goon, 
And found wher in a cave of stoon, 
In a contree that highte Trace, 
This Eolus (with harde grace!) 
Held the windes in distresse, 
And gan hem under him to presse, 
That they gonne as beres rore. 
He bond and pressed hem so sore. 

This messager gan faste crye; 
"Rys up," quod he, "and faste hye 
Til that thou at my lady be. 
And tak thy clarions eek with thee 
And speed thee forth." And he anon 
Took to a man that hight Triton 
His clariouns to bere tho. 
And leet a certeyn wind to go 
That blew so hidously and hye 
That hit ne lef te not a skye 
In al the welken longe and brood. 

This Eolus no-wher abood 
Til he was come at Fames feet. 
And eek the man that Triton heet; 
And ther he stood as still as stoon. 

And her-withal ther com anoon 
Another huge companye 
Of gode folk, and gunne crye, 
"Lady, graunte us now good fame, 
And lat our werkes han that name 
Now, in honour of gentilesse, 
And also God your soule blesse! 
For we han wel deserved hit, 

Sk. 1576-1613 



64 CHAUCER 1370-1407 

Therfore is right that we ben quit." 

''As thryve I/' quod she, "ye shal faile, 

Good werkes shal yow noght availe 

To have of me good fame as now. 

But wote ye what? I graunte yow 

That ye shal have a shrewed fame 

And wikked loos and worse name, 

Though ye good loos have wel deserved. 

Now go your wey, for ye be served. 

And thou, Dan Eolus, let see! 

Tak forth thy trumpe anon," quod she, 

"That is y-cleped Sclaundre light. 

And blow hir loos that every wight 

Speke of hem harm and shrewednesse 

In stede of good and worthinesse. 

For thou shalt trumpe al the contraire 

Of that they han don wel or faire." 
"Alas," thoughte I, "what aventures 

Han these sory creatures! 

For they amonges al the pres 

Shul thus be shamed gilteles! 

But what! hit moste nedes be." 
What did this Eolus, but he 

Tok oute his blakke trumpe of bras, 

That fouler than the devil was. 

And gan this trumpe for to blowe. 

As al the world shulde overthrowe. 

That through-oute every regioun 

Wente this foule trumpes soun 

As swift as pelet out of gonne 

Whan fyr is in the poudre ronne. 

And swich a smoke gan out-wende 

Out of his foule trumpes ende, 

Blak, bio, grenish, swartish reed. 

As doth wher that men melte leed, 

Lo, al on high fro the tuel! 

And therto 00 thing saugh I wel. 

That the ferther that hit ran 

Sk. 1614-1651 



1408-1445 THE HOUS OF FAME 65 

The gretter wexen hit began, 
As doth the river from a welle, 
And hit stank as the pit of helle. 
Alas, thus was hir shame y-ronge, 
And giltelees, on every tonge. 

Tho com the thridde companye 
And gunne up to the dees to hye. 
And doun on knees they fille anon, 
And seyde, ''We ben everychon 
Folk that han ful trewely 
Deserved fame rightfully. 
And praye yow hit mot be knowe 
Right as hit is, and forth y-blowe." 
"I graunte," quod she, "for me list 
That now your gode werkes be wist. 
And yit ye shul han better loos. 
Right in dispyt of all^ your foos. 
Than worthy is, and that anoon. 
Lat now," quod she, ''thy trumpe goon, 
Thou Eolus, that is so blak. 
And oute thyn other trumpe tak 
That highte Laude, and blow hit so 
That through the world hir fame go 
Al esely and not to faste. 
That hit be knowen atte laste." 

"Ful gladly, lady myn," he seyde, 
' And oute his trumpe of gold he brayde 
Anon, and sette hit to his mouth. 
And blew hit est, and west, and south, 
And north, as loude as any thunder, 
That every wight had of hit wonder. 
So brode hit ran or than hit stente. 
And certes al the breeth that wente 
Out of his trumpes mouth hit smelde 
As men a pot-ful of bawme helde 
Among a basket ful of roses. 
This favour did he til hir loses. 

And right with this I gan aspye 

Sk. 1652-1689 



66 CHAUCER i446-i483 

Ther com the ferthe companye. 
But certeyn they were wonder fewe, 
And gonne stonden in a rewe, 
And seyden, "Certes, lady bright, 
We han don wel with al our might, 
But we ne kepen have no fame. 
Hyd our werkes and our name, 
For Goddes love! For certes we 
Han certyn doon hit for bountee 
And for no maner other thing." 
" I graunte yow al your asking," 
Quod she; ''let your werkes be deed." 

With that aboute I clew myn heed. 
And saugh anoon the fifte route 
That to this lady gonne loute 
And doun on knees anoon to falle. 
And to hir tho besoughten alle 
To hyde hir gode werkes eek, 
And seyde they yeven noght a leek 
For fame ne for swich renoun. 
For they, for contemplacioun 
And Goddes love, had y- wrought; 
Ne of fame wolde they noght. 

"What?" quod she, "and be ye wode? 
And wene ye for to do gode 
And for to have of that no fame? 
Have ye dispyt to have my name? 
Nay, ye shul liven everichoon! 
Blow thy trumpe and that anoon," 
Quod she, "thou Eolus, I hote. 
And ring this folkes werk by note 
That al the world may of hit here." 
And he gan blowe hir loos so clere 
In his golden clarioun 
That through the world wente the soun 
So kenely and eek so sof te. 
But atte laste hit was on-lofte. 

Thoo com the sexte companye, 

Sk. 1690-1727 



1484-1521 THE HOUS OF FAME 67 

And gonne faste on Fame crye. 
Right verraily in this manere 
They seyden, "Mercy, lady dere! 
To telle certein, as hit is, 
We han don neither that ne this, 
But ydel al our lyf y-be. 
But natheles yit preye we 
That we mowe han so good a fame 
And greet renoun and knowen name 
As they that han don noble gestes 
And acheved alle hir lestes. 
As wel of love as other thing. 
Al was us nevere brooch ne ring, 
Ne elles nought, from wimmen sent, 
Ne ones in hir herte y-ment 
To make us only frendly chere 
But mighte temen us on bere. 
Yet lat us to the peple seme 
Swich as the world may of us deme, 
That wimmen loven us for wode. 
Hit shal don us as moche gode, 
And to our herte as moche availe 
To countrepeise ese and travaile. 
As we had wonne hit with labour; 
For that is dere boght honour 
At regard of our grete ese. 
And yit thou most us more plese: 
Let us be holden eek, therto, 
Worthy, wyse, and gode also, 
And riche, and happy unto love. 
For Goddes love, that sit above. 
Though we may not the body have 
Of wimmen, yet, so God yow save. 
Let men glewe on us the name. 
Suffyceth that we han the fame." 

"I graunte," quod she, "by my trouthe! 
Now, Eolus, with-outen slouthe, 
Tak out thy trumpe of gold," quod she, 

Sk. 1728-1765 



68 CHAUCER 1522-1559 

" And blow as they han axed me, 
That every man wene hem at ese 
Though they gon m ful badde lese." 
This Eolus gan hit so blowe 
That through the world hit was y-knowe. 

Tho com the seventh route anoon, 
And fel on knees everichoon, 
And seyde, "Lady, graunte us sone 
The same thing, the same bone. 
That this nexte folk han doon." 
"Fy on yow," quod she, "everichoon! 
Ye masty swyn, ye ydel wrecches, 
Ful of roten slowe tecches! 
What? false theves! wher ye wolde 
Be famous good, and no-thing nolde 
Deserve why, ne nevere roughte? 
Men rather yow to-hangen oughte! 
For ye be lyk the sweynte cat 
That wolde hav^ fish, but wostow what? 
He wolde no-thing wete his clowes. 
Yvel thrift come on your lowes 
And eek on myn if I hit graunte 
Or do yow favour yow to avaunte! 
Thou Eolus, thou king of Trace! 
Go, blow this folk a sory grace," 
Quod she, "anoon. And wostow how? 
As I shal telle thee right now. 
Sey: 'These ben they that wolde honour 
Have, and do noskinnes labour, 
Ne do no good, and yit han laude. 
And that men wende that bele Isaude 
Ne coude hem nought of love werne, 
And yit she that grint at a querne 
Is al to good to ese hir herte.'" 

This Eolus anon up sterte, 
And with his blakke clarioun 
He gan to blasen out a soun 
As loude as belweth wind in helle. 

Sk. 1766-1803 



1560-1597 THE ROUS OF FAME 69 

And eke therwith, sooth to telle, 
This soun was so ful of lapes 
As evere mowes were in apes. 
And that wente al the world aboute, 
That every wight gan on hem shoute 
And for to laughe as they were wode; 
Such game fonde they in hir hode. 

Tho com another companye, 
That had y-doon the traiterye, 
The harm, the gretest wikkednesse 
That any herte couthe gesse. 
And preyed hir to han good fame. 
And that she nolde hem doon no shame, 
But yeve hem loos and good renoun. 
And do hit blowe in clarioun. 
''Nay, wis," quod she, "hit were a vyce! 
Al be ther in me no lustyce. 
Me hst not to do hit now, 
Ne this nil I not graunte yow." 

Tho com ther leping in a route, 
And gan choppen al aboute 
Every man upon the croune 
That al the halle gan to soune. 
And seyden: ''Lady, lefe and dere. 
We ben swich folk as ye mowe here. 
To tellen al the tale aright, 
We ben shrewes, every wight. 
And han delyt in wikkednesse 
As gode folk han in goodnesse. 
And loye to be knowen shrewes 
And ful of vyce and wikked thewes. 
Wherfore we preyen yow, a-rowe. 
That our fame swich be knowe 
In alle thing right as hit is." 

"I graunte hit yow," quod she, "y-wis. 
But what art thou that seyst this tale, 
That werest on thy hose a pale. 
And on thy tipet swich a belle!" 

Sk. 1804-1841 



70 CHAUCER 1598-1635 

"Madame," quod he, "sooth to telle, 

I am that like shrewe, y-wis. 

That brende the temple of Isidis 

In Athenes, lo, that citee." 

"And wherfore didest thou so?" quod she. 

"By my thrift," quod he, "madame, 

I wolde fayn han had a fame 

As other folk had in the toun, 

Al-thogh they were of greet renoun 

For hir vertu and for hir thewes. 

Thoughte I, as greet a fame han shrewes, 

Thogh hit be for shrewednesse. 

As gode folk han for goodnesse. 

And sith I may not have that oon, 

That other nil I noght for-goon. 

And for to gette of Fames hyre. 

The temple sette I al a-fyre. 

Now do our loos be blowen swythe 

As wisly be thou evere blythe." 

"Gladly," quod she; "thou Eolus, 

Herestow not what they preyen us? " 

"Madame, yis, ful wel," quod he, 

"And I wil trumpen hit, parde!" 

And tok his blakke trumpe faste, 

And gan to puffen and to blaste. 

Til hit was at the worldes ende. 

With that I gan aboute wende. 
For oon that stood right at my bak, 
Me thoughte, goodly to me spak 
And seyde: "Frend, what is thy name? 
Artow come hider to han fame?" 
"Nay, for-sothe, frend!" quod I; 
"I cam noght hider, graunt mercy! 
For no swich cause, by my heed! 
Suffyceth me, as I were deed. 
That no wight have my name in honde. 
I woot my-self best how I stonde. 
For what I drye or what I thinke, 

Sk. 1842-1879 



1636-1673 THE HOUS OF FAME 71 

I wol my-selven al hit drinke, 

Certeyn, for the more part, 

As ferforth as I can myn art." 

''But what dost thou here than?" quod he. 

Quod I, "That wol I tellen thee— 

The cause why I stonde here: 

Som newe tydinges for to lere; 

Som newe thinges, I not what, 

Tydinges, other this or that. 

Of love or swiche thinges glade. 

For certeynly, he that me made 

To comen hider, seyde me 

I shulde bothe here and see. 

In this place, wonder thinges. 

But these be no swiche tydinges 

As I mene of." "No?" quod he. 

And I answerde, "No, pardee! 

For wel I wiste evere yit, 

Sith that first I hadde wit, 

That som folk han desyred fame 

Dyversly, and loos, and name; 

But certeynly, I niste how 

Ne wher that Fame dwelled er now, 

Ne eek of hir descripcioun, 

Ne also hir condicioun, 

Ne the ordre of hir doom. 

Unto the tyme I hider com." 

"Which than be, lo! these tydinges. 

That thou now thus hider bringes, 

That thou hast herd?" quod he to me; 

"But now, no fors. For wel I see 

What thou desyrest for to here. 

Com forth, and stond no longer here, 

And I wol thee, withouten drede. 

In swich another place lede, 

Ther thou shalt here many oon." 

Tho gan I forth with him to goon 
Out of the castel, sooth to seye. 

Sk. 1880-1917 



72 CHAUCER 1674-1711 

Tho saugh I stonde in a valeye, 
Under the castel, faste by, 
An hous that domus Dedaliy 
That Laborintus cleped is, 
Nas maad so wonderliche, y-wis, 
Ne half so queynteHche y-wrought. 
And everemo, so swift as thought. 
This queynte hous aboute wente, 
That nevere-mo hit stille stente. 
And ther-oute com so greet a noise 
That, had hit stonden upon Oise, 
Men mighte hit han herd esely 
To Rome, I trowe sikerly. 
And the noys^ which that I herde 
For al the world right so hit ferde 
As doth the routing of the stoon 
That from thengyn is leten goon. 

And al this hous, of which I rede. 
Was maad of twigges, falwe, rede, 
And grene eek, and som weren whyte, 
Swich as men to these cages thwyte. 
Or maken of these paniers. 
Or elles hottes or dossers. 
That for the swough and for the twigges 
This hous was also f ul of gigges. 
And also ful eek of chirkinges. 
And of many other werkinges. 
And eek this hous hath of entrees 
As fele as leves been on trees 
In somer, whan they grene been. 
And on the roof men may yit seen 
A thousand holes and wel mo 
To leten wel the soun oute go. 

And by day, in every tyde, 
Ben al the dores open wyde, 
And by night, echoon unshette. 
Ne porter ther is noon to lette 
No maner ty dingus in to pace; 

Sk. 1918-1955 



1712-1749 THE HOUS OF FAME 73 

Ne nevere reste is in that place 
That hit nis fild ful of tydinges, 
Other loude, or of whispringes. 
And over alle the houses angles 
Is ful of rouninges and of langles 
Of werres, of pees, of manages, 
Of Testes, of labour, of viages. 
Of abood, of deeth, of lyf, 
Of love, of hate, acord, of stryf, 
Of loos, of lore, and of winninges, 
Of hele, of sekenesse, of bildinges, 
Of faire windes, of tempestes, 
Of qualm of folk, and eek of bestes, 
Of dyvers transmutaciouns 
Of estats, and eek of regiouns, 
Of trust, of drede, of lelousye, 
Of wit, of winning, of folye. 
Of plentee, and of greet famyne, 
Of chepe, of derth, and of ru3aie, 
Of good or mis governement, 
Of fyr, and dyvers accident. 

And lo, this hous, of which I wryte 
Siker be ye hit nas not lyte; 
For hit was sixty myle of lengthe. 
Al was the timber of no strengthe, 
Yet hit is founded to endure 
Whyl that hit list to Aventure, 
That is the moder of tydinges. 
As the see of welles and springes. 
And hit was shapen lyk a cage. 

*'Certes," quod I, "in al myn age 
Ne saugh I swich a hous as this!'* 
And as I wondred me, y-wis, 
Upon this hous, tho war was I 
How that myn egle faste by 
Was perched hye upon a stoon. 
And I gan streight to him goon 
And seyde thus: "Ipreyethee 

Sk.1956-1993 



74 CHAUCER nso-mi 

That thou a whyle abyde me 
For Goddes love, and let me seen 
What wondres in this place been. 
For yit, paraunter, I may lere 
Som good ther-on, or sumwhat here 
That leef me were, or that I wente." 

''Peter! that is myn entente," 
Quod he to me. " Therf ore I dwelle. 
But certein, oon thing I thee telle, 
That, but I bringe thee ther-in, 
Ne shalt thou nevere cunne gin 
To come in-to hit, out of doute. 
So faste hit whirleth, lo, aboute. 
But sith that loves of his grace, 
As I have seyd, wol thee solace 
Fynally with these thinges: 
Uncouthe sightes and tydinges. 
To passe with thyn hevinesse, 
(Such routhe hath he of thy distresse, — 
That thou suffrest debonairly, 
And wost thy-selven utterly 
Disesperat of alle blis, 
Sith that Fortune hath maad a-mis 
The fruit of al thyn hertes reste 
Languisshe and eek in point to breste, — 
That he, through his mighty meryte, 
Wol do thee ese, al be hit lyte, 
And yaf in expres commaundement. 
To which I am obedient. 
To furthre thee with al my might. 
And wisse and teche thee aright 
Wher thou maist most tydinges here) 
Shaltow heer anoon many oon lere." 

With this word he right anoon 
Hente me up bitwene his toon. 
And at a windowe in me broghte, 
That in this hous was, as me thoghte 
(And ther-withal me thoghte hit stente, 

Sk. 1994-2031 



1788-1824 THE HOUS OF FAME 75 

And no-thing hit aboute wente) 

And me sette in the floor adoun. 

But which a congregacioun 

Of folk, as I saugh rome aboute 

Some within and some withoute, 

Nas nevere seen, ne shal ben eft, 

That, certes, in this world nis left 

So many formed by Nature, 

Ne deed so many a creature: 

That wel unethe in that place 

Had I oon foot-brede of space. 

And every wight that I saugh there 

Rouned everich in otheres ere 

A newe tydinge prevely; 

Or elles tolde al openly 

Right thus, and seyde: ''Nost not thou 

That is betid, lo, late or now?" 

''No," quod the other, "telle me what!" 
And than he tolde him this or that. 
And swoor ther-to that hit was sooth — 
"Thus hath he seyd"— and "Thus he dooth"— 
And "Thus shal hit be"— and "Thus herde I 

seye" — 
"That shal be found"— "That dar I leye"— 
That al the folk that is a-lyve 
Ne han the cunning to discryve 
The thinges that I herde there, 
What aloude, and what in ere. 
But al the wonder-most was this: — 
Whan oon had herd a thing, y-wis, 
He com forth to another wight 
And gan him tellen anoon-right 
The same that to him was told 
Or hit a furlong- way was old. 
But gan somwhat for to eche 
To this tydinge in this speche 
More than hit evere was. 
And nat so sone departed nas 

Sk. 2032-2068 



76 CHAUCER 1825-1862 

That he fro him, that he ne mette 

With the thridde; and, or he lette 

Any stounde, he tolde him als. 

Were the tydinge sooth or fals, 

Yit wolde he telle hit nathelees, 

And everemo with more encrees 

Than hit was erst. Thus north and south 

Wente every tydinge fro mouth to mouth, 

And that encresing evere-mo. 

As fyr is wont to quikke and go 

From a sparke spronge amis 

Til al a citee brent up is. 

And whan that was ful y-spronge 
And woxen more on every tonge 
Than evere hit was, hit wente anoon 
Up to a windowe oute to goon. 
Or, but hit mighte oute ther pace. 
Hit gan oute crepe at som crevace 
And fleigh forth faste for the nones. 

And somtyme saugh I tho, at ones, 
A lesing and a sad soth-sawe. 
That gonne of aventure drawe 
Oute at a window^ for to pace; 
And when they metten in that place. 
They were a-chekked bothe two 
And neither of hem moste oute go. 
For other so they gonne croude 
Til ech of hem gan cry en loude, 
"Lat me go first!" ''Nay, but lat me! 
And heer I wol ensuren thee 
With the nones that thou wolt do so 
That I shal nevere fro thee go 
But be thyn owne sworen brother! 
We wil medle us ech with other 
That no man, be he nevere so wrooth, 
Shal han that oon of two but both 
At ones, al beside his leve, 
Come we a-morwe or on eve, 

Sk. 2069-2106 



1863-1900 THE HOUS OF FAME 77 

Be we cryed or stille y-rouned." 

Thus saugh I fals and sooth compouned 

Togeder flee for oo tydinge. 

Thus out at holes gonne wringe 
Every tydinge streight to Fame. 
And she gan yeven ech his name 
After hir disposicioun, 
And yaf hem eek duracioun, 
Some to wexe and wane sone 
As dooth the faire whyte mone, 
And leet hem gon. Ther mighte I seen 
Wenged wondres faste fleen, 
Twenty thousand in a route, 
As Eolus hem blew aboute. 

And Lord ! this hous in alle tymes 
Was full of shipmen and pilgrymes, 
With scrippes bret-ful of lesinges, 
Entremedled with tydinges, 
And eek alone by hem-selve. 
O, many thousand tymes twelve 
Saugh I eek of these pardoneres, 
Currours, and eke messageres, 
With boistes crammed ful of lyes 
As evere vessel was with lyes. 
And as I alther-fastest wente 
Aboute and did al myn entente 
Me for to pleye and for to lere 
And eek a tydinge for to here 
That I had herd of som contree 
That shal not now be told for me — 
For hit no nede is, redely: 
Folk can singe hit bet than I; 
For al mot oute other late or rathe, 
Alle the sheves in the lathe — 
I herde a gret noise withalle 
In a corner of the halle 
Ther men of love tydinges tolde. 
And I gan thiderward beholde. 

Sk. 2107-2144 



78 CHAUCER 



1901-1914 



For I saugh renning every wight 
As faste as that they hadden might; 
And everich cryed, "What thing is that?" 
And som seyde, "I not nevere what!" 
And whan they were alle on an hepe, 
Tho behinde gonne up lepe, 
And clamben up on other faste, 
And up the nose on hye caste, 
And troden faste on otheres heles 
And stampe, as men don after eles. 

Atte laste I saugh a man 
Which that I nevene naught ne can. 
But he semed for to be 
A man of greet auctoritee 

Sk. 2145-2158 

{Unfinished.) 



THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 

The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne, 
Thassay so hard, so sharp the conqueringe, 
The dredful loye, that alwey sHt so yerne, 
Al this mene I by love, that my felinge 
Astonyeth with his wonderful worchinge 
So sore y-wis, that whan I on him thinke, 
Nat wot I wel wher that I wake or winke. 

For al be that I knowe not love in dede, 
Ne wot how that he quyteth folk hir hyre, 
Yet happeth me ful of te in bokes rede 
Of his miracles and his cruel yre. 
Ther rede I wel he wol be lord and syre, — 
I dar not seyn his strokes been so sore. 
But God save swich a lord! I can no more. 

Of usage, what for luste what for lore, 
On bokes rede I of te, as I yow tolde. 
But wherfor? that I speke al this? not yore 
Agon, hit happed me for to beholde 
Upon a book, was write with lettres olde; 
And ther-upon, a certeyn thing to lerne, 
The longe day ful faste I radde and yerne. 

For out of olde feldes, as men seith, 
Cometh al this newe corn fro yeer to yere; 
And out of olde bokes, in good feith, 
Cometh al this newe science that men lere. 
. But now to purpos as of this matere: 
To rede forth hit gan me so dely te '^t^ f 
That al the day me thoughte but a lyte.'" ' 

This book of which I make mencioun, 
Entitled was al thus as I shal telle, 
"Tulhus of the dreem of Scipioun.'* 

Sk. 1-31 



80 • CHAUCER 32-66 

Chapitres sevene hit hadde, of hevene and helle, 
And erthe, and soules that therinne dwelle, 
Of which, as shortly as I can hit trete, 
Of his sentence I wol yow seyn the grete. 

First telleth hit, whan Scipioun was come 
In Afrike, how he mette Massinisse, 
That him for loye in armes hath y-nome. 
Than telleth hit hir speche and al the bhsse 
That was betwix hem til the day gan misse; 
And how his auncestre, African so dere, 
Gan in his sleep that night to him appere. 

Than telleth hit that fro a sterry place 
How African hath him Cartage shewed, 
And warned him before of al his grace, 
And seyde him what man, lered other lewed, 
That loveth comune profit, wel y-thewed. 
He shal unto a bhsful place wende, 
Ther as loye is that last withouten ende. 

Than asked he if folk that heer be dede 
Have lyf and dwelling in another place. . 
And African seyde, "Ye, withoute drede," 
And that our present worldes lyves space 
Nis but a maner deth, what wey we trace, 
And rightful folk shal go after they dye 
To hevene, and shewed him the galaxye. 

Than shewed he him the litel erthe that heer is. 

At regard of the hevenes quantite; 

And after shewed he him the nyne speres. 

And after that the melodye herde he 

That Cometh of thilke speres thryes three, 

That welle is of musyke and melodye 

In this world heer, and cause of armonye. 

Than bad he him, sin erthe was so lyte 
And ful of torment and of harde grace, 
That he ne shulde him in the world delyte. 

Sk. 32-66 



67-101 THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 81 

Than tolde he him, in certeyn yeres space, 

That every sterre shulde come into his place 

Ther hit was first, and al shulde out of minde -'y^^^-^j 

That in this world is don of al mankinde. 

Than prayde him Scipioun to telle him al 
The wey to come un-to that hevene bhsse. 
And he seyde, "Know thy-self first immortal, 
And loke ay besily thou werke and wisse 
To comune profit, and thou shalt nat misse 
To comen swiftly to that place dere. 
That ful of bhsse is and of soules clere. 

"But brekers of the lawe, sooth to seyne. 
And lecherous folk, after that they be dede, 
Shul alwey whirle aboute therthe in peyne 
Til many a world be passed, out of drede, 
And than, for-yeven alle hir wikked dede. 
Than shul they come unto that bhsful place, 
To which to comen God thee sende his grace!" 

The day gan fallen, and the derke night. 
That reveth bestes from hir besinesse, 
Berafte me my book for lak of light, 
And to my bed I gan me for to dresse, 
Fulfild of thought and besy hevinesse. 
For bothe I hadde thing which that I nolde. 
And eek I ne hadde that thing that I wolde. 

But fynally my spirit at the laste 

For wery of my labour al the day 

Took reste, that made me to slepe faste, 

And in my sleep I mette, as I lay. 

How African, right in that selfe aray 

That Scipioun him saw before that tyde. 

Was comen and stood right at my beddes syde. 

The wery hunter, sleping in his bed, 
To wode ayein his minde goth anoon; 
The luge dremeth how his plees ben sped; 

Sk. 67-101 



82 CHAUCER 102-133 

The carter dremeth how his cartes goon; 

The riche, of gold; the knight fight with his foon; 

The seke met he drinketh of the tonne; 

The lover met he hath his lady wonne. 

Can I nat seyn if that the cause were 

For I had red of African beforn, 

That made me to mete that he stood there; 

But thus seyde he, ''Thou hast thee so wel born 

In loking of myn olde book to-torn, 

Of which Macrobie roghte nat a lyte, 

That somdel of thy labour wolde I quyte!" 

Citherea! thou blisful lady swete, 

That with thy fyr-brand dauntest whom thee lest, 

And madest me this sweven for to mete, 

Be thou my help in this for thou mayst best. 

As wisly as I saw thee north-north-west 

When I began my sweven for to wryte, 

So yif me might to ryme hit and endyte! 

The Story 

^^/i-*/H^ This forseid Africa n me hente anoon, 

And forth with him unto a gate broghte 

Right of a park walled with grene stoon; 

And over the gate, with lettres large y-wroghte, 

Ther were vers y-writen, as me thoghte. 

On ey ther half e, of f ul gret difference. 

Of which I shal yow sey? the pleyn sentence. 

''Thorgh me men goon in- to that bhsful place 
Of hertes hele and dedly woundes cure; 
Thorgh me men goon unto the welle of Grace, 
Ther grene and lusty May shal evere endure; 
This is the wey to al good aventure; 
Be glad, thou reder, and thy sorwe of-caste, 
Al open am I: passe in, and hy the faste!" 

Sk. 102-133 



134-168 THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 83 

''Thorgh me men goon," than spak that other syde, 

''Unto the mortal strokes of the spere, 

Of which Disdayn and Daunger is the gyde, 

Ther tree shal nevere fruyt ne leves here. 

This streem yow ledeth to the sorwful wer^*^ (/^^ 

Ther as the fish in prison is al drye; 

Theschewing is only the remedy e." 

Thise vers of gold and blak y-writen were, 
The which I gan a-s£6riyed to beholde; 
For with that oon encresed ay my fere. 
And with that other gan myn herte bolde. 
That oon me hette, that other did me colde: 
No wit had I, for errour, for to chese 
To entre or flee, or me to save or lese. 

Right as betwixen adamauntes two 

Of even might a pece of iren y-set 

That hath no might to meve to ne fro 

(For what that oon may hale, that other let) 

?erde I, that niste whether me was bet 

To entre or leve, til African my gyde 

Me hente, and shoof in at the gates wyde. 

And seyde, "Hit stondeth writen in thy face 
Thyn errour, though thou telle it not to me. 
But dred thee nat to come in-to this place. 
For by this wryting is no-thing ment by thee, 
Ne by noon but he Loves servant be. 
For thou of love hast lost thy tast, I gesse. 
As seek man hath of swete and bitternesse. 

"But natheles, al-though that thou be dul, 
Yit that thou canst not do, yit mayst thou see. 
For many a man that may not stonde a pul 
Yit lyketh him at the wrastling for to be. 
And demeth yit wher he do bet or he. 
And if thou haddest cunning for tendyte, 
I shal thee shewen matere of to wryte." 

Sk. 134-168 



84 CHAUCER 169-203 

With that my hond in his he took anoon, 
Of which I comfort caughte, and wente in faste. 
But Lord! so I was glad and wel begoon! 
For over-al wher that I myn eyen caste 
Were trees clad with leves that ay shal laste, 
Ech in his kinde, of colour freshe and grene 
As emeraude, that loye was to sene. 

The bilder 00k, and eek the hardy asshe; 

The piler elm, the cofre unto careyne; 

The box- tree piper; holm to whippes lasshe; .^,, '^^ "^ 

The sayling firr; the cipres, deth to pleyne; ^^ 

The sheter ew, the asp for shaftes pleyile; 

The olyve of pees, and eek the drunken vyne; 

The victor palm, the laurer to devyne. 

A garden saw I, ful of blosmy bowes. 
Upon a river, in a grene mede, 
Ther as that swetnesse everemore y-now is, 
With floures whyte, blewe, yelowe, and rede; 
And colde welle-stremes, no-thing dede, 
That swommen ful of smale fisshes lighte, 
With finnes rede and scales silver-brighte. 

On every bough the briddes herde I singe, 

With voys of aungel in hir armonye. 

Som besyed hem hir briddes forth to bringe. 

The litel conyes to hir pley gunne hye. 

And further al aboute I gan espye 

The dredful roo, the buk, the hert and hinde, 

Squerels, and bestes smale of gen til kinde. 

Of instruments of strenges in acord 
Herde I so pleye a ravisshing swetnesse 
That God, that maker is of al and lord, 
Ne herde nevere better, as I gesse. 
Therwith a wind, unnethe hit might be lesse. 
Made in the leves grene a noise sof te 
Acordant to the foules song on-lof te. 

Sk. 169-203 



THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 85 

The air of that place so attempre was 
That nevere was grevaunce of hoot ne cold. 
Ther wex eek every holsom spyce and gras; 
Ne no man may ther wexe seek ne old. 
Yet was ther loye more a thousand fold 
Then man can telle; ne nevere wolde it nighte, 
But ay cleer day to any mannes sighte. 

Under a tree besyde a welle I say 
Cupyde our lord his arwes forge and fyle. 
And at his feet his bowe al redy lay, 
And wel his doghter tempred al the whyle 
The hedes in the welle, and with hir wyle 
She couched hem after as they shulde serve, 
Som for to slee, and som to wounde and kerve. 

Tho was I war of Plesaunce anon-right, 

And of Aray, and Lust, and Curtesye; 

And of the Craft that can and hath the might 

To doon by force a wight to do folye — 

Disfigurat was she, I nil not lye; 

And by him-self under an ook, I gesse, 

Sawe I Delyt, that stood with Gentilnesse. 

I saw Beautee withouten any atyr. 
And Youthe ful of game and lolyte, 
Fool-hardinesse, Flaterye, and Desyr, 
Messagerye, and Mede, and other three — 
Hir names shul noght heer be told for me — • 
And upon pilers grete of lasper longe 
I saw a temple of bras y-founded stronge. 

Aboute the temple daunceden alway 

Wommen y-nowe, of which somme ther were ^^ ^^a 

Faire of hem-self, and somme of hem were gay. ' 

In kirtels, al disshevele, went^ they there 

(That was hir office alwey, yeer by yere) 

And on the temple, of doves whyte and faire 

Saw I sitting many a hundred paire. 



Sk. 204-238 



86 CHAUCER 239-273 

Before the temple-dor§ ful soberly 
Dame Pees sat with a curteyn in hir hond. 
And hir besyde, wonder discretly, 
Dam^ Pacience sitting ther I fond 
With face pale, upon an hil of sond; 
y And alder-next, within and eek with-oute, 

Beheste and Art, and of hir folk a route. ^ " ' \ 

Within the temple, of syghes hote as fyr 
I herde a swogh that gan aboute renne; 
Which syghes were engendred with desyr, 
That maden every auter for to brenne 
Of newe flaume. And wel aspyed I thenne 
That al the cause of sorwes that they drye 
Com of the bitter goddesse lalousye. 

The god Priapus saw I as I wente. 
Within the temple in soverayn place stonde. 
In swich aray as whan the asse him shente 
With cry by night and y^ith his ceptre in honde. 
Ful besily men gunne assaye and fonde 
Upon his heed to sette, of sondry hewe, 
Garlondes ful of fresshe fioures newe. 

And in a privee corner in disport 
Fond I Venus and hir porter Richesse, 
That was ful noble and hauteyn of hir port. 
Derk was that place, but afterward lightnesse 
I saw a lyte — unnethe hit might be lesse — 
And on a bed of gold she lay to reste 
Til that the hote sonne gan to weste. 

Hir gilte heres with a golden threed 
Y-bounden were, untressed as she lay. 
And naked fro the breest unto the heed 
Men mighte hir see; and sothly for to say, 
The remenant wel kevered to my pay 
Right with a subtil kerchef of Valence, 
Ther was no thikker cloth of no defence. 

Sk. 239-273 



THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 87 

The place yaf a thousand savours swote, 
And Bachus, god of wyn, sat hir besyde, 
And Ceres next, that doth of hunger bote; <\ 
And, as I seide, amiddes lay Cipryde, 
To whom on knees two yonge folkes cryde 
To ben hir help. But thus I leet hir lye. 
And ferther in the temple I gan espye 

That in dispyt of Diane the chaste 

Ful many a bowe y-broke heng on the wal 

Of maydens, such as gunne hir tymes waste 

In hir servyse; and peynted over al 

Of many a storye, of which I touche shal 

A fewe, as of Calixte and Athalaunte, 

And many a mayde, of which the name I wante. 

Semyramus, Candace, and Ercules, 
Biblis, Dido, Tisbe and Piramus, 
Tristram, Isoude, Paris, and Achilles, 
Eleyne, Cleopatre, and Troilus, 
Silla, and eek the moder of Romulus — 
Alle these were peynted on that other syde. 
And al hir love, and in what plyt they dyde. 

Whan I was come ayen into the place 
That I of spak, that was so swote and grene, 
•Forth welk I tho, my-selven to solace. 
Tho was I war wher that ther sat a quene 
That, as of light the somer-sonne shene 
Passeth the sterre, right so over mesure 
She fairer was than any creature. 

And in this launde, upon an hil of floures, 
Was set this noble goddesse Nature. 
Of braunches were hir halles and hir boures 
Y-wrought after hir craft and hir mesure. 
Ne ther nas foul that cometh of engendrure 
That they ne were prest in hir presence 
To take hir doom and yeve hir audience. 



Sk. 274-308 



88 CHAUCER 309-343 

For this was on Seynt Valentynes day, 

Whan every foul cometh ther to chese his make, 

Of every kinde that men thenke may. 

And that so huge a noyse gan they make 

That erthe and see, and tree and every lake, 

So ful was that unnethe was ther space 

For me to stonde: so ful was al the place. 

And right as Aleyn in the Pleynte of Kinde 

Devyseth Nature of aray and face, 

In swich aray men mighten hir ther finde. 

This noble emperesse ful of grace 

Bad every foul to take his owne place 

As they were wont alwey fro yeer to yere 

Seynt Valentynes day to stonden there. 

That is to sey, the foules of rayyne 

Were hyest set; and than the foules smale, 

That eten as hem nature wolde enclyne, 

As worm or thing of which I telle no tale; 

But water-foul sat lowest in the dale; 

And foul that liveth by seed sat on the grene, """"^ 

And that so fele that wonder was to sene. 

Ther mighte men the royal egle finde. 

That with his sharpe look perceth the sonne; 

And other egles of a lower kind^. 

Of which that clerkes wel devysen conne. 

Ther was the tyraunt with his fethres donne 

And greye, I mene the goshauk, that doth pyne 

To briddes for his outrageous ravyne. 

The gentil faucon, that with his feet distreyneth 
The kinges hond; the hardy sperhauk eke, 
The quayles foo; the merlion that peyneth 
Him-self ful oft^ the larke for to seke; 
Ther was the douve, with hir eyen meke; 
The lalous swan, ayens his deth that singeth; 
The oule eek, that of deth the bode bringeth; 

Sk. 309-343 



THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 89 

The cran the geaunt, with his trompes soun; 
The theef, the chogh; and eek the langHng pye; \ 
The scorning lay; the eles foo, the heroun; ^ 

The false lapwing, ful of trecherye; 
The stare, that the counseyl can bewrye; 
The tame ruddok; and the coward kyte; 
The cok, that orloge is of thorpes lyte; 

The sparwe, Venus sone; the nightingale, 
That clepeth forth the fresshe leves newe; 
The swalwe, mordrer of the flyes smale 
That rnaken hony of fioures fresshe of hewe; 
The wedded turtel, with hir herte trewe; 
The pekok, with his aungels fethres brighte; 
The fesaunt, scorner of the cok by nighte; 

The waker goos; the cokkow evere unkinde; 

The popiniay, ful of delicasye; 

The drake, stroyer of his owne kinde; 

The stork, the wreker of avouterye; 

The hote cormeraunt of glotonye; 

The raven wys, the crowe with vois of care; 

The throstel old; the frosty feldefare. 

What shulde I seyn? of foules every kinde 
That in this w^orld han fethres and stature 
Men mighten in that place assembled finde 
Before the noble goddesse Nature. 
And everich of hem did his besy cure 
Benignely to chese or for to take 
By hir acord his formel or his make. 

But to the poynt: — Nature held on hir hond 

A formel egle, of shap the gentileste 

That evere she among hir werkes fond, 

The most benigne and the goodHeste. 

In hir was every vertu at his reste, 

So ferforth that Nature hir-self had blisse 

To loke on hir and of te hir bek to kisse. 



Sk. 344-378 



90 CHAUCER 379-413 

f\-. • — - 
Nature, the vicair of thalmyghty Lord, 
That hoot, cold, hevy, Hght, and moiste, and dreye 
Hath knit by even noumbre of acord, 
In esy vols began to speke and seye, 
'' Foules, tak hede of my sentence, I preye. 
And for your ese, in furthering of your nede, 
As faste as I may speke I wol me spede. 

''Ye know wel how, Seynt Valentynes day, 
By my statut and through my governaunce, 
Ye come for to chese — and flee your way — 
Your makes as I pnk yow with plesaunce. 
But natheles my rightful ordenaunce 
May I not lete, for al this world to winne, 
That he that most is worthy shal beginne. 

"The tercel egle, as that ye knowen wel, 

The foul royal abov^ yow in degree, 

The wyse and worthy, secree, trewe as stel, 

The which I formed have, as ye may see, 

In every part as hit best lyketh me — 

Hit nedeth noght his shap yow to devyse — 

He shal first chese and speken in his gyse. 

"And after him by ordre shul ye chese, 
After your kinde, everich as yow lyketh, 
And as youf hap is shul ye winne or lese. 
But which of yow that love most entryketh, 
God sende him hir that sorest for him syketh." 
And therwith-al the tercel gan she calle. 
And seyde, "My sone, the choys is to thee falle. 

" But natheles in this condicioun 

Mot be the choys of everich that is here: 

'^hat she agree to his eleccioun, 

Who-so he be that shulde been hir fere. 

This is our usage alwey fro yeer to yere. 

And who so may at this time have his grace. 

In blisful tyme he com in- to this place." 

Sk. 37^-413 



414-448 THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 91 

With hed enclyned and with ful humble chere 

This royal tercel spak and taried nought: 

" Unto my sovereyn lady, and noght my fere, 

I chese, and chese with wille and herte and thought, 

The fonnel on your hond so wel y- wrought, 

Whos I am al and evere wol hir serve. 

Do what hir list to do me live or sterve. 

"Beseching hir of mercy and of grace, 

As she that is my lady sovereyne, 

Or let me dye present in this place. 

For certes, longe may I not live in peyne; 

For in myn herte is corven every veyne. 

Having reward only to my trouthe, 

My dere herte, have on my wo som routhe. 

"And if that I to hir be founde untrewe, 
Disobeysaunt, or wilful negligent, 
Avauntour, or in proces love a newe, 
I pray to yow this be my lugement, 
That with these foules I be al to-rent 
That ilke day that evere she me finde 
To hir untrewe or in my gilt unkinde. 

"And sin that noon loveth hir so wel as I, 
Al be she nevere of love me behette, 
Than oghte she be myn thourgh hir mercy, 
For other bond can I noon on hir knette. 
For nevere for no wo ne shal I lette 
To serven hir, how fer so that she wende. 
Sey what yow list, my tale is at an ende.'* 

Right as the fresshe, rede rose newe 

Ayen the somer-sonne coloured is, 

Right so for shame al wexen gan the hewe 

Of this formel whan she herde al this. 

She neyther answerde "wel," ne seyde amis; 

So sore abasshed was she til that Nature 

Seyde, " Doghter, drede yow noght, I yow assure ! " 

Sk. 414-448 



92 CHAUCER 449-483 

Another tercel egle spak anoon 

Of lower kinde, and seyde, "That shal not be. 

I love hir bet than ye do, by Seynt lohn! — 

Or atte leste I love hir as wel as ye, 

And lenger have served hir in my degree. 

And if she shulde have loved for long lovinge, 

To me allone had been the guerdoninge. 

" I dar eek se^^e, if she me finde f als, 
Unkinde, langler, or rebel any wyse, 
Or lalous, do me hongen by the hals! 
And but I bere me in hir servyse 
As wel as that my wit can me suffyse, 
Fro poynt to poynt hir honour for to save, 
Take she my lyf and al the good I have." 

The thridde tercel egle answerde tho : 
''Now, sirs, ye seen the litel leyser here! 
For every foul cryeth oute to been a-go 
Forth with his make or with his lady dere; 
And eek Nature hir-self ne wol nought here, 
For tarying heer, noght half that I wolde seye. 
And but I speke, I mot for sorwe deye. 

"Of longe servyse avaunte I me no- thing; 
But as possible is me to dye to-day 
For wo, as he that hath ben languisshing 
Thise twenty winter, and wel happen may 
A man may serven bet and more to pay 
In half a yeer, al-though hit were no more. 
Than som man doth that hath served ful yore. 

"I ne say not this by me, for I ne can 
Do no servyse that may my lady plese; 
But I dar sevn T am hir trewest man 
. As to my doom, and feynest wolde hir ese. 
At shorte wordes, til that deth me sese 
I wol ben hires whether I wake or winke 
And trewe in al that herte may bethinke." 

Sk. 449-483 



484-518 THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 93 

Of al my lyf sin that day I was born 
So gentil plee in love or other thing 
Ne herde nevere no man me beforn, 
Who that hadde leyser and cunning 
For to reherse hir chere and hir speking. 
And from the morwe gan this speche laste 
Til dounward drow the sonne wonder faste. 

The noyse of foules for to ben delivered 

So loude rong, ''Have doon and let us wende!" 

That wel wende I the wode had al to-shivered. 

"Come of!" they cryde, "alias! ye wil us shende! 

Whan shal your cursed pleding have an ende? 

How shulde a luge eyther party leve, 

For yee or nay, with-outen any preve?" 

The goos, the cokkow, and the doke also 

So cryden "Kek, kek!" "Kukkow!" "Quek, 

quek!" hye, 
That thorgh myn eres the noyse wente tho. 
The goos seyde, " Al this nis not worth a flye! 
But I can shape hereof a remedye, 
And I wol sey my verdit faire and swythe 
For water-foul, who-so be wroOth or blythe." 

"And I for worm-foul," seyde the fool cokkow, 

"For I wol of myn owne auctorite 

For comune speed take the charge now, 

For to delivere us is gret charite." 

"Ye may abyde a whyle yet, parde!" 

Seydp the turtel, "if hit be your wille 

A wigliL may speke, him were as good be stille. 

"I am a seed-foul, oon the unworthieste, 
That wot I wel, and litel of kunninge. 
But bet is that a wightes tonge reste 
Than entremeten him of such doinge 
Of which he neyther rede can nor singe. 
And who-so doth, ful foule himself acloyeth, 
For office uncommitted ofte anoyeth." 

Sk. 484-518 ""'"'^ 



94 CHAUCER 



519-553 



Nature, which that alway had an ere 

To murmour of the lewediiLbse behinde, 

With facouiid voys seide, "Hold your tonges there! 

And I sbal sone, I hope, a counseyl finde 

Yow to delivere and fro this noyse unbinde. 

I luge, of every folk men shal oon calle 

To seyn the verdit for yow foules alle.'* 

Assented were to this conclusioun 
The briddes alle. And foules of ravyne 
Han chosen first by pleyn eleccioun 
The tercelet of the faucon to diffyne 
Al hir sentence, and as him list, termyne; 
And to Nature him gonnen to presente, 
And she accepteth him with glad entente. 

The tercelet seide than in this manere: 
"Ful hard were hit to preve hit by resoun 
Who loveth best this gentil formel here; 
For everich hath swich replicacioun 
That noon by skilles may be broght a-doun. 
I can not seen that arguments avayle: 
Than semeth hit ther moste be batayle.** 

"Al redy!" quod these egles tercels tho. 
"Nay, sirs!" quod he, "if that I dorste hit seye, 
Ye doon me wrong. My tale is not y-do! 
For sirs, ne taketh noght a-gref, I preye: 
It may noght gon as ye wolde in this weye. 
Our is the voys that han the charge in honde, 
And to the luges doom ye moten stonde. 

"And therfore pees! I seye, as to my wit, 
Me wolde thinke how that the worthieste 
Of knighthode, and lengest hath used hit, 
Moste of estat, of blood the gentileste, ^ 
Were sittingest for hir, if that hir leste; 
And of these three she wot hir-self, I trowe. 
Which that he be, for hit is light to knowe." 

Sk. 519-553 



554-588 THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 95 

The water-foules han her hedes leyd 

Togeder, and of short avysement 

Whan everich had his large guicc seyd, 

They seyden sothly al by oon assent _^ 

How that "the goos with hir facounde gent 

That so desyreth to pronounce our nede 

Shal telle our tale," and preyde " God hir spede." 

And for these water-foules tho began 
The goos to speken, and in hir cakelinge 
She seyde, " Pees! now tak keep, every man, 
And herkeneth which a reson I shal bringe. 
My wit is sharp, I love no taryinge. 
I seye, I rede him though he were my brother 
But she wol love him lat him love another!" 

"Lo heer! a parfit reson of a goos'" 

Quod the sperhauk. '^Nevere mot she thee! 

Lo, swich hit is to have a tonge loos! 

Now parde, fool, yet were hit bet for thee 

Have holde thy pees than shewed thy nycete! "^^^^ 

Hit lyth not in his wit nor in his wille, 

But sooth is seyd, 'A fool can noght be stille.'" 

The laughter aroos of gentil foules alle. 
And right anoon the seed-foul chosen hadde 
The turtel trewe, and gunne hir to hem calle, 
And preyden hir to seye the sothe sadde 
Of this matere, and asked what she radde. 
And she answerde that pleynly hir entente 
She wolde shewe and sothly what she mente. 

"Nay, God forbede a lover shulde chaunge!" 
The turtel seyde, and wex for shame al regd. 
"Thogh that his lady evere-more be straunge, 
Yet let him serve hir evere til he be deed. 
For sothe, I preyse noght the gooses reed; 
For thogh she deyed, I wolde non other make, — 
I wol ben hires til that the deth me take." 

Sk. 554-588 



96 CHAUCER 539-623 

"Wei bourded!" quod the doke, " by my hnt! 

That men shulde alwey loven causeles, 

Who can a reson finde or wit in that? 

Daunceth he murye that is mirtheles? 

Who shulde recche of that is reccheles? 

Ye, quek!" yit quod the doke ful wel and faire, 

"Ther been mo sterres, God wot, than a paire!'* 

"Now fy, cherl!" quod the gentil tercelet. 
"Out of the dunghil com that word ful right. 
Thou canst noght see which thing is wel be-set. 
Thou farest by love as oules doon by light; 
The day hem blent, ful wel they see by night. 
Thy kinde is of so lowe a wrechednesse 
That what love is thou canst nat see ne gesse." 

Tho gan the cokkow putte him forth in prees 
For foul that eteth worm, and seide blyve, 
"So I," quod he, "may have my make in pees, 
I recche not how longe that ye stryve. 
Lat ech of hem be sole)/ n ai hir lyve. 
This is my reed sin they may not acorde. 
This shorte lesson nedeth noght recorde.'' 

"Ye! have the glotoun :&ld ynogh his pannche, 

Than are we wel!" seyde the merlioun; 

" Thou mordrer of the heysugge on the braunche 

That broghte thee forth, thou rewthelees glotoun! 

Live thou solevn. wormes corrupcioun! 

For no fovs lb o{ lakke of thy nature. - 

Go, lewed be thou, whyl the world may dure!" 

"Now pees," quod Nature, "I comaunde heer! 

For I have herd al your opinoun. 

And in effect yet be we nevere the neer. 

But fynally, this is my conclusioun: 

That she hir-self shal han the eleccioun 

Of whom hir list, who-so be wrooth or blythe; 

Him that she cheest, he shal hir have as swythe. 

Sk. 589-623 



624-658 THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 97 

"For sith hit may not heer discussed be 
Who loveth hir best, as seide the tercelet, 
Than wol I doon hir this favour, that she 
Shal have right him on whom hir herte is set, 
And he hir that his herte hath on hir knet. 
This luge I, Nature, for I may not lye. 
To noon estat I have non other ye. 

''But as for counseyl for to chese a make, 

If hit were reson, certes, than wolde I 

Counseyle yow the royal tercel take. 

As seide the tercelet ful skilfully. 

As for the gentilest and most worthy 

Which I have wroght so wel to my plesaunce. 

That to yow oghte been a suffisaunce." 

With dredful vols the formel hir answerde, 
"My rightful lady, Goddesse of Nature, 
Soth is that I am evere under your yerde 
Lyk as is everich other creature. 
And moot be youres whyl my lyf may dure. 
And therfore graunteth me my firste bone. 
And myn entente I wol yow sey right sone." 

"I graunte hit yow," quod she. And right anoon 

This formel egle spak in this degree: 

"Almighty queue, unto this yeer be doon 

I aske respit for to avysen me. 

And after that to have my choys al free. 

Th^5^ pi ind som that I wolde speke and seye: 

Ye gete no more, al- though ye do me deyc. 

"I wol noght serven Venus ne Cupyde 
For sothe as yet, by no manere weye." 
"Now sin hit may non other wyse betyde," 
Quod tho Nature, " heer is no more to seye, 
Than wolde I that these foules were aweye 
Ech with his make, for tarying lenger here" — 
And seyde hem thus as ye shul after here. 

Sk. 624-658 



98 CHAUCER 659-692 

"To yow speke I, ye tercelets," quod Nature. 
"Beth of good herte and serveth, alle three. 
A yeer is not so longe to endure, 
And ech of yow peyne him, in his degree, 
For to do wel; for, God wot, quit is she 
Fro yow this yeer, what after so befalle. 
This enlTf-mf"'^ is dressed for yow alle." 

And whan this werk al broght was to an ende, 
To every foul Nature yaf his make 
By even acord, and on hir wey they wende. 
A! Lord! the blisse and loye that they make! 
For ech of hem gan other in winges take. 
And with hir nekkes ech gan other winde. 
Thanking alwey the noble goddesse of kinde. 

But first were chosen foules for to singe, 
As yeer by yere was alwey hir usaunce 
To singe a roundel at hir departinge 
To do Nature honour and plesaunce. 
The note, I trowe, maked was in Fraunce; 
The wordes were swich as ye may heer finde, 
The nexte vers as I now have in minde. 

Qui bien aime a tard oublie. 
"Now welcome somer with thy sonne softe, 
That hast this wintres weders over-shake, 
And driven awey the longe nightes blake! 

" Seynt Valentyn, that art ful hy on-lofte: — 
Thus sungen smale foules for thy sake — 
Now welcom somer with thy sonne sofie, 
That hast this wintres weders over-shake. 

"Wel han they cause for to gladen ofte, 
Sith ech of hem recovered hath his make; 
Ful blisful may they singen whan they wake; 
Now welcom somer with thy sonne softe. 
That hast this wintres weders over-shake , 
And driven awey the longe nightes blake." 

Sk. 659-692 



693-699 THE PARLEMENT OF FOULES 99 

And with the showting whan hir song was do 

That foules maden at hir flight a- way, 

I wook, and other bokes took me to 

To rede upon, and yet I rede alway. 

I hope, y-wis, to rede so som day 

That I shal mete som thing for to fare 

The bet, and thus to rede I nil not spare. 

ExpHcit tractatus de congregacione Volucrum 
die sancti Valentini. 

,Sk. 693-699 



TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 

Book I 

The double sorwe of Troilus to tellen, 
That was the King Priamus sone of Troye, 
In loving, how his aventures fellen 
Fro wo to wele, and after out of loye, 
My purpos is er that I parte fro ye. 
Thesiphone, thou help me for tendyte 
Thise woful vers that wepen as I wryte! 

To thee clepe I, thou goddesse of torment, 
Thou cruel Furie, sorwing evere in peyne: 
Help me, that am the sorwful instrument 
That helpeth lovers, as I can, to pleyne! 
For wel sit it the sothe for to seyne, 
A woful wight to han a drery fere, 
And to a sorwful tale a sory chere. 

It is wel wist how that the Grekes stronge 
In armes with a thousand shippes wente 
To Troyewardes, and the citee longe 
Assegeden neigh ten yeer er they stente; 
And in diverse wyse and oon entente 
The ravisshing to wreken of Eleyne, 
By Paris doon, they wroughten al hir peyne. 

Now fil hit so that in the toun ther was 
Dwelling a lord of greet auctoritee, 
A gret devyn that cleped was Calkas, 
That in science so expert was that he 
Knew wel that Troye sholde destroyed be, 
By answere of his god, that highte thus, 
Daun Phebus or Apollo Delphicus. 

Sk., I, 1-14; 57-70 



1.29-63 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 101 

So whan this Calkas knew by calculinge, 
And eek by answere of this Appollo, 
That Grekes sholden swich a peple bringe 
Thorugh which that Troye moste been for-do, 
He caste anoon out of the toun to go. 
For wel wiste he by sort that Troye sholde 
Destroyed been, ye! wolde who-so nolde. 

For which for to departen sof tely 
Took purpos ful this forknowinge wyse, 
And to the Grekes ost ful prively 
He stal anoon; and they in curte^s wyse 
Him deden bothe worship and servyse 
In trust that he hath conning hem to rede 
In every peril which that is to drede. 

The noyse up roos whan it was first aspyed 
Thorugh al the toun, and generally was spoken 
That Calkas traytor fled was, and allyed 
With hem of Grece; and casten to ben wroken 
On hem that falsly had his feith so broken; 
And seyden he and al his kin at ones 
Ben worthy for to brennen, fel and bones. 

Now hadde Calkas left in this meschaunce 

Al unwist of this fals and wikked dede 

His doughter, which that was in gret penaunce, 

For of hir lyf she was ful sore in drede, 

As she that niste what was best to rede: 

For bothe a widowe was she and allone 

Of any freend to whom she durste hir mone. 

Criseyde was this lady name a-right. 

As to my doom, in al Troyes citee 

Nas noon so fair; for passing every wight 

So aungellyk was hir natyf beautee 

That lyk a thing inmortal semed she, 

As doth an hevenish parfit creature 

That doun were sent in scorning of nature. 

Sk., I, 71-105 



102 CHAUCER i, 64-98 

This lady, which that al-day herde at ere 
Hir fadres shame, his falsnesse, and tresoun, 
Wei nigh out of hir wit for sorwe and fere, 
In widewes habit large of samit broun. 
On knees she fil biforn Ector a-doun; 
With pitous voys and tendrely wepinge 
His mercy bad, hir-selven excusinge. 

Now was this Ector pitous of nature. 

And saw that she was sorwfully bigoon 

And that she was so fair a creature. 

Of his goodnesse he gladed hir anoon, 

And seyde, ''Lat your fadres treson goon 

Forth with mischaunce! and ye your-self in loye 

Dwelleth with us, whyl you good Hst, in Troye. 

" And al thonour that men may doon yow have, 
As ferforth as your fader dwelled here, 
Ye shul han and your body shal men save 
As fer as I may ought enquere or here." 
And she him thonked with ful humble chere. 
And ofter wolde and it had ben his wille, 
And took hir leve, and hoom, and held hir stille. 

And so bifel whan comen was the tyme 
Of Aperil, whan clothed is the mede 
With newe grene, of lusty Ver the pryme, 
And swote smellen floures whyte and rede, 
In sondry wyses shewed, as I rede, 
The folk of Troye hir observaunces olde 
Palladiones feste for to holde. 

And to the temple in al hir beste wyse 
In general ther wente many a wight 
To herknen of Palladion the servyse. 
And namely so many a lusty knight. 
So many a lady freshe and mayden bright, 
Ful wel arayed bothe moste and leste. 
Ye, bothe for the seson and the feste. 

Sk., I, 106-126; 155-168 



1,99-133 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 103 

Among thise othere folk was Criseyda 
In widewes habit blak; but nathelees 
Right as our firste lettre is now an A, 
In beautee first so stood she makelees. 
Hir godly looking gladede al the prees. 
Nas nevere seyn thing to ben preysed derre, 
Nor under cloude blak so bright a sterre 

As was Criseyde as folk seyde everichoon 

That hir bihelden in hir blake wede; 

And yet she stood ful lowe and stille alloon 

Behinden othere folk in litel brede 

And neigh the dore, ay under shames drede, 

Simple of atyr and debonaire of chere, 

With ful assured loking and manere. 

This Troilus, as he was wont to gyde 

His yonge knightes, ladde hem up and doun 

In thilke large temple on every syde, 

Biholding ay the ladyes of the toun, 

Now heer, now ther; for no devocioun 

Had he to noon to reven him his reste, 

But gan to preyse and lakken whom him leste. 

And in his walk ful faste he gan to wayten 

If knight or squyer of his companye 

Gan for to syke, or lete his eyen bayten 

On any woman that he coude aspye; 

He wolde smyle, and holden it folye, 

And seye him thus, '' God wot, she slepeth softe 

For love of thee whan thou tornest ful ofte! 

*'I have herd told, pardieux, of your livinge, 

Ye lovers, and your lewede observaunces, 

And which a labour folk han in winninge 

Of love, and in the keping, which doutaunces; 

And whan your preye is lost, wo and penaunces. 

O verrey foles! nyce and blinde be ye: 

Ther nis not oon can war by other be." 

,1,169-203 



104 CHAUCER i.i34-i68< 

And with that word he gan cast up the browe, 
Ascaunces, ''Lo! is this nought wysly spoken?" 
At which the God of Love gan loken rowe 
Right for despyt, and shoop for to ben wroken. 
He kidde anoon his bowe nas not broken; 
For sudeynly he hit him at the fulle. 
And yet as proud a pekok can he pulle! 

With-in the temple he wente him forth pleyinge, ^< 

This Troilus, of every wight aboute, 

On this lady and now on that lokinge, 

Wher-so she were of toune or of with-oute. 

And up-on cas bifel that thorugh a route 

His eye perced, and so depe it wente 

Til on Criseyde it smoot, and ther it stente. 

And sodeynly he wex ther- with astoned, 

And gan hire bet biholde in thrifty wyse: 

'^O mercy, God!" thoughte he, "wher hastow woned,, 

That art so fair and goodly to devyse? " 

Ther-with his herte gan to sprede and ryse. 

And softe sighed lest men mighte him here. 

And caughte a-yein his firste pleying chere. 

She nas not with the leste of hir stature, 

But alle hir limes so wel answeringe 

Weren to womanhod, that creature 

Was nevere lasse mannish in seminge. i] 

And eek the pure wyse of here mevinge ' 

Shewede wel that men mighte in hir gesse 

Honour, estat, and wommanly noblesse. 

To Troilus right wonder wel with-alle 
Gan for to lyke hir meving and hir chere, 
Which somdel deynous was, for she leet falle 
Hir look a hte a-side in swich manere, 
Ascaunces, "What! may I not stonden here?" 
And after that hir loking gan she lighte, 
That nevere thoughte him seen so good a sighte. 

Sk.,I. 204-210: 267-294 



ii 



1.169-203 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 105 

And of hir look in him ther gan to quiken 

So greet desir and swich affeccioun 

That in his hertes botme gan to stiken 

Of hir his fixe and depe impressioun. 

And though he erst had poured up and doun, 

He was tho glad his homes in to shrinke. 

Unnethes wiste he how to loke or winke. 

Lo, he that leet him-selven so konninge 
And scorned hem that Loves peynes dryen, 
Was ful unwar that Love had his dwellinge 
With-in the subtile stremes of hir yen, 
That sodeynly him thoughte he felte dyen, 
Right with hir look, the spirit in his herte. 
Blessed be Love that thus can folk converte! 

She, this in blak, lyking to Troilus, 
Over alle thyng he stood for to biholde. 
Ne his desir ne wherfore he stood thus 
He neither chere made, ne word tolde. 
But from a-fer, his manere for to holde, 
On other thing his look som-tyme he caste 
And eft on hir, whyl that servyse laste. 

And after this, not fully al awhaped, 

Out of the temple al esiliche he wente. 

Repenting him that he had evere y-iaped 

Of Loves folk, lest fully the descente 

Of scorn fille on him- self ; but, what he mente, 

Lest it were wist on any maner syde. 

His wo he gan dissimulen and hyde. 

Whan he was fro the temple thus departed, 

He streyght anoon un-to his paleys torneth, 

Right with hir look thurgh-shoten and thurgh-darted, 

Al feyneth he in lust that he soiorneth. 

And al his chere and speche also he borneth; 

And ay of Loves servants every whyle, 

Him-self to wrye, at hem he gan to smyle. 

,1,295-329 



106 CHAUCER 1,204-238 

And seyde, ''Lord, so ye live al in lest, 
Ye loveres! for the conningest of yow, 
That serveth most ententiflich and best, 
Him tit as often harm ther-of as prow. 
Your hyre is quit ayein, ye! God wot how! 
Nought wel for wel, but scorn for good servyse. 
In feith your ordre is ruled in good wyse!" 

But for al this, whan that he say his tyme, 
He held his pees, — non other bote him gayned. 
For Love bigan his fetheres so to lyme 
That wel unnethe un-to his folk he feyned 
That othere besye nedes him destrayned. 
For wo was him that what to doon he niste. 
But bad his folk to goon wher that hem liste. 

And whan that he in chaumbre was allone, 
He doun up-on his beddes feet him sette. 
And first he gan to syke and eft to grone. 
And thoughte ay on hir so withouten lette. 
That, as he sat and wook, his spirit mette 
That he hir saw a temple, and al the wyse 
Right of hir look, and gan it newe avyse. 

Thus gan he make a mirour of his minde, 
In which he saugh al hoolly hir figure. 
And that he wel coude in his herte finde, 
It was to him a right good aventure 
To love swich oon; and if he did his cure 
To serven hir, yet mighte he falle in grace, 
Or elles, for oon of hir servaunts pace. 

Imagininge that travail le nor grame 

Ne mighte for so goodly oon be lorn 

As she, ne him for his desir ne shame, 

Al were it wist, but in prys and up-born 

Of alle lovers wel more than biforn: ^ 

Thus argumented he in his ginninge, 1 

Ful unavysed of his wo cominge. ^ 

Sk., I, 330-336; 351-378f 



1.239-273 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 107 

Thus took he purpos loves craft to suwe, 
And though te he wolde werken prively, 
First, to hyden his desyr in muwe 
From every wight y-born, al-outrely, 
But he mighte ought recovered be therby; 
Remembring him that love to wyde y-blowe 
Yelt bittre fruyt, though swete seed be sowe. 

And to the God of Love thus seyde he 
.With pitous voys, ''O lord, now youres is 
My spirit, which that oughte youres be. 
You thanke I, lord, that han me brought to this. 
But whether goddesse or womman, y-wis. 
She be, I noot, which that ye do me serve; 
But as hir man I wol ay Hve and sterve. 

"Ye stonden in hire eyen mightily 
As in a place un-to your vertu digne. 
Wherfore, lord, if my servyse or I 
May lyke yow, so beth to rrie benigne. 
For myn estat royal heer I resigne 
In-to hir hond, and with ful humble chere 
Bicome hir man as to my lady dere." 

In him ne deyned sparen blood royal 
^The fyr of love, (wher-fro God me blesse!) 
Ne him forbar in no degree, for al 
His vertu or his excellent prowesse; 
But held him as his thral lowe in distresse, 
And brende him so in sondry wyse ay newe 
That sixty tyme a day he loste his hewe. 

The sharpe shoures felle of armes preve 
That Ector or his othere bretheren diden 
Ne made him only ther-fore ones meve; 
And yet was he, wher-so men wente or riden, 
Founde oon the best, and lengest tyme abiden 
Ther peril was, and did eek such travayle 
In armes that to thenke it was mervayle. 

Sk., I, 379-385; 421-441; 470-476 



108 CHAUCER 1.274-308 

But for non hate he to the Grekes hadde, 

Ne also for the rescous of the toun, 

Ne made him thus in armes for to madde; 

But only, lo, for this conclusioun, 

To lyken hir the bet for his renoun, 

Fro day to day in armes so he spedde 

That alle the Grekes as the deeth him dredde. 

And fro this forth tho ref te him love his sleep, 
And made his mete his foo; and eek his sorwe 
Gan multiplye that, who-so toke keep, 
It shewed in his hewe, bothe eve and morwe. 
Therfore a title he gan him for to borwe 
Of other syknesse, lest of him men wende 
That the hote fyr of love him brende. 

And seyde, he had a fevere and ferde amis; 

But how it was, certayn, can I not seye, 

If that his lady understood not this, 

Or feyned hir she niste, oon of the tweye. 

But wel I rede that by no maner weye 

Ne semed it as that she of him roughte, 

Nor of his peyne or what-so-evere he thoughte. 

But than fel to this Troilus such wo 

That he was wel neigh wood; for ay his drede 

Was this, that she som wight had loved so 

That nevere of him she wolde have taken hede, 

For which him thoughte he felte his herte blede. 

Ne of his wo ne dorste he not biginne 

To tellen it, for al this world to winne. 

But whan he had a space fro his care. 

Thus to him-self ful of te he gan to pleyne. 

He sayde, "O fool, now art thou in the snare 

That whilom lapedest at loves peyne! 

Now artow hent, now gnaw thyn owene cheyne! 

Thou were ay wont ech lover reprehende 

Of thing fro which thou canst thee nat defende!" 

Sk., 1, 477-511 



1.309-343 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 109 

Thise wordes and ful manye an-other to 

He spak, and called evere in his compleynte 

Hir name for to tellen hir his wo, 

Til neigh that he in salte teres dreynte. 

Al was for nought; she herde nought his pleynte. 

And whan that he bithoughte on that folye, 

A thousand fold his wo gan multiplye. 

Bi-wayling in his chambre thus allone, 
A freend of his that called was Pandare 
Com ones in unwar, and herde him grone, 
And sey his freend in swich distresse and care. 
"Alias!" quod he, "who causeth al this fare? 
O mercy, God ! what unhap may this mene? 
Han now thus sone Grekes maad yow lene? 

"Or has tow som remors of conscience, 
And art now falle in som devocioun. 
And waylest for thy sinne and thyn offence, 
And hast for ferde caught attricioun? 
God save hem that bi-seged han our toun 
And so can leye our lolyte on presse 
And bringe our lusty folk to hoHnesse!" 

These wordes seyde he for the nones alle, 

That with swich thing he mighte him angry maken, 

And with an angre don his sorwe falle 

As for the tyme, and his corage awaken. 

But wel he wiste, as fer as tonges spaken, 

Ther nas a man of gretter hardinesse 

Than he, ne more desired worthinesse. 

"What cas," quod Troilus, "or what aventure 
Hath gyded thee to sen my languisshinge. 
That am refus of every creature? 
But for the love of God, at my preyinge. 
Go henne a-way, for certes my deyinge 
Wol thee disese, and I mot nedes deye. 
Therfore go wey, ther is no mor§ to seye. 

Sk., I, 540-574 



110 CHAUCER 1,344-378 

"But if thou wene I be thus syk for drede, 

It is not so, and therfore scorne nought. 

Ther is a-nother thing I take of hede 

Wei more than ought the Grekes han y-wrought i 

Which cause is of my deeth for sorwe and thought. 

But though that I now telle thee it ne leste, 

Be thou nought wrooth: I hyde it for the beste." 

This Pandare, that neigh malt for wo and routhe, 
Ful often seyde, "Alias! what may this be?" 
"Now freend," quod he, "if evere love or trouthe 
Hath been, or is, bi-twixen thee and me, 
Ne do thou nevere swich a crueltee 
To hyde fro thy freend so greet a care. 
Wostow nought wel that it am I, Pandare? 

"I wole parten with thee al thy peyne, 

If it be so I do thee no comfort. 

As it is freendes right, sooth for to seyne, 

To entreparten wo as glad desport. 

I have, and shal, for trewe or fals report. 

In wrong and right y-loved thee al my lyve. 

Hyd not thy wo fro me but telle it blyve." 

Than gan this sorwful Troilus to syke, 
And seyde him thus, " God leve it be my beste 
To telle it thee! For sith it may thee lyke. 
Yet wole I telle it though myn herte breste. 
And yet wot I thou mayst do me no reste. 
But lest thow deme I truste not to thee, 
Now herke, freend, for thus it stant with me. 

"Love, a-yeins the which who-so defendethl 

Him-selven most, him alder-lest avayleth, "^"^ " '^ ^ 

With desespeir so sorwfully me offendeth 

That streyght un-to the deeth myn herte sayleth. 

Ther-to desyr so brenningly me assayleth 

That to ben slayn it were a gretter loye 

To me than king of Grece been and Troye! 

Sk., I, 575-609 



1.379-413 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 111 

''Suffiseth this, my fulle freend Pandare, 
That I have seyd, for now wostow my wo. 
And for the love of God, my colde care 
So hyd it wel: I tolde it nevere to mo; 
For harmes mighte f olwen, ^o than two. 
If it were wist. But be thou in gladnesse 
And lat me sterve, unknowe, of my distresse." 

"How hastow thus unkindely and longe 
Hid this fro me, thou fool?" quod Pandarus; 
''i*araunt€r thou might after swich oon longe 
That myn avys anoon may helpen us." 
"This were a wonder thing," quod Troylus, 
"Thou coudest nevere in lov^ thy-selven wisse; 
How devel maystow bringen me to bhsse?" 

"Ye, Troilus, now herke," quod Pandare, 
"Though I be nyce; it happeth qfte so 
That oon that excesse doth ful yvele fare 
By good counseyl can kepe his freend ther-fro. 
I have my-self eek seyn a blind man go 
Ther-as hefel that coude loke wyde. 
A fool may eek a wys man of te gyde. 

"A whetston is no kerving instrument 

And yet it maketh sharpe kerving-tolis. 

And ther thow woost that I have ought miswent, 

Eschewe thou that, for swich thing to thee scole is: 

Thus of te wyse men ben war by folis. 

If thou do so, thy wit is wel biwared; 

By his contrarie is every thing declared. 

"The wyse seyth, 'Wo him that is allone. 
For, and he falle, he hath noon help to ryse.' 
And sith thou hast a felawe, telle thy mone; 
For this nis not, certeyn, the nexte wyse 
To winnen love, as techen us the wyse, — 
To walwe and wepe as Niobe the quene, 
Whos teres yet in marbel been y-sene. 

Sk., I. 610-637; 694-700 



112 CHAUCER 1.414^48 

"If God wole thou art not agast of me 
Lest I wolde of thy lady thee bigyle, 
Thow wost thy-self whom that I love, pardee, 
As I best can, gon sithen longe whyle. 
And sith thou wost I do it for no wyle, 
And sith I am he that thou tristest most, 
Telle me sum what, sin al my wo thou wost." 

Yet Troilus for al this no word seyde. 
But longe he lay as stille as he ded were. 
And after this with syking he abreyde, 
And to Pandarus voys he lente his ere, 
And up his eyen caste he, that in fere 
Was Pandarus lest that in frenesye 
He sholde falle, or elles sone dye: 

And cryde "A-wak!" ful wonderly and sharpe; 

''What? slombrestow as in a lytargye? 

Or artow lyk an asse to the harpe. 

That hereth soun whan men the strenges plye 

But in his minde of that no melodye 

May sinken, him to glade, for that he 

So dul is of his bestiaUtee?" 

And with that Pandare of his wordes stente; 
But Troilus yet him no word answerde, 
For-why to telle nas not his entente 
To nevere no man, for whom that he so ferde. 
For it is seyd, ''Man maketh ofte a yerde 
With which the maker is him-self y-beten 
In sondry manere," as thise wyse treten, 

And namely in his counseyl tellinge 

That toucheth love that oughte be secree; 

For of him-self it wolde y-nough out-springe, 

But-if that it the bet governed be. 

Eek som-tyme it is craft to seme flee 

Fro thing which in effect men hunte faster : 

Al this gan Troilus in his herte caste. 

Sk.. I. 715-749 



1.449-483 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 113 

But nathelees whan he had herd him crye 
''Awak!" he gan to syke wonder sore, 
And seyde, "Freend, though that I stille lye, 
I am not deef. Now pees, and crye no more! 
For I have herd thy wordes and thy lt)re; 
But suffre me my mischef to biwayle, 
For thy proverbes may me nought avayle. 

"Nor other cure canstow noon for me. 

Eek I nil not be cured, I wol deye; 

What knowe I of the quene Niobe? 

Lat be thyn olde ensaumples, I thee preye!" 

"No," quod tho Pandarus, "therfore I seye, 

Swich is delyt of foles to biwepe 

Hir wo, but seken bote they ne kepe. 

" Now knowe I that ther reson in thee fayleth. 

But telle me if I wiste what she were 

For whom that thee al this misaunter ayleth? 

Dorstestow that I tolde hir in hir ere 

Thy wo, sith thou darst not thy-self for fere. 

And hir bisoughte on thee to han som routhe?" 

"Why, nay," quod he, "by God and by my trouthe!" 

"What? not as bisily," quod Pandarus, 

"As though myn owene lyf lay on this nede?" 

"No, certes, brother," quod this Troilus. 

"And why?" — "For that thou sholdest nevere spede." 

"Wostow that wel?"— "Ye, that is out of drede," 

Quod Troilus, "for al that evere ye conne, 

She nil to noon swich wrecche as I be wonne." 

Quod Pandarus, "Alias! what may this be, 
That thou despeyred art thus causelees? 
What? liveth not thy lady? henedistel 
How wostow so that thou art gracelees? 
Swich yvel is not alwey botelees. 
Why, put not impossible thus thy cure, 
Sin thing to come is ofte in aventure, 

Sk., I, 750-784 



114 CHAUCER 1.484-518 

"What may she derrien other of thy deeth, 
If thou thus deye, and she not why it is, 
But that for fere is yolden up thy breeth 
For Grekes han biseged us, y-wis? 
Lord! which a thank than shaltow han of this! 
Thus wol she seyn, and al the toun at ones, 
'The wrecche is deed, the devel have his bones!' 

''Thou mayst allone heer wepe and crye and knele; 
But love a woman that she woot it nought 
And she wol quyte that thou shalt not fele. 
Unknowe, unkist; and lost that is un-sought. 
What ! many a man hath love f ul dere y-bought 
Twenty winter that his lady wiste, 
That nevere yet his lady mouth he kiste. 

" What? shulde he therf or^ fallen in despeyr, 
Or be recreaunt for his owene tene. 
Or sleen him-self , al be his lady fair? 
Nay, nay, but evere in oon be fresh and grene 
, To serve and love his dere hertes queue, 
And thenke it is a guerdoun hir to serve 
A thousand-fold more than he can deserve." 

And of that word took hede Troilus, 
And thoughte anoon what folye he was inne, 
And how that sooth him seyde Pandarus, 
That for to sleen him-self mighte he not winne, 
But bothe doon unmanhod and a sinne,, 
And of his deeth his lady nought to wyte; 
For of his wo, God woot, she knew ful lyte. 

And with that thought he gan ful sore syke. 
And seyde, ''Alias! what is me best to do?" 
To whom Pandare answerde, "If thee lyke. 
The best is that thou telle me al thy wo; 
And have my trouthe, but thou finde it so 
I be thy bote or that it be ful longe. 
To peces do me drawe and si then honge!" 

Sk., I, 799-833 



I 



1,519-553 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 115 

"Ye, so thou seyst," quod Troilus tho, "alias! 
But, God wot, it is not the rather so. 
Ful hard were it to helpen in this cas, 
For wel finde I that Fortune is my fo, 
Ne alle the men that ryden conne or go 
May of hir cruel wheel the harm withstonde; 
For as hir list she pleyeth with free and bonde." 

Quod Pandarus, "Than blamestow Fortune 
For thou art wrooth, ye, now at erst I see. 
Wostow nat wel that Fortune is commune 
To every maner wight in som degree? 
And yet thou hast this comfort, lo, pardee! 
That as hir loyes moten over-goon. 
So mote hir sorwes passen everichoon. 

"For if hir wheel stinte any-thing to torne, 
Than cessed she Fortune anoon to be: 
Now sith hir wheel by no wey may soiorne, 
What wostow if hir mutabihtee. 
Right as thy-selven list, wol doon by thee, 
Or that she be not fer fro thyn helpinge? 
Paraunter thou hast cause for to singe! 

"And therfore wostow what I thee beseche? 
Lat be thy wo and turning to the grounde; 
For who-so list have helping of his leche, 
To him bihoveth first unwrye his wounde. 
To Cerberus in helle ay be I bounde, 
Were it for my suster al thy sorwe, 
By my wille, she sholde al be thyn to-morwe. 

"Loke up, I seye, and telle me what she is 

Anoon, that I may goon aboute thy nede. 

Knowe ich hir ought? For my love telle me this! 

Than wolde I hopen rather for to spede." 

Tho gan the veyne of Troilus to blede. 

For he was hit, and wex al reed for shame. 

"A ha!" quod Pandare, "heer biginneth game!" 

Sk., I, 834-868 



116 CHAUCER 1.554-588 

And with that word he gan him for to shake, 

And seyde, "Theef, thou shalt hir name telle!'* 

But tho gan sely Troilus for to quake 

As though men sholde han lad him in-to helle, 

And seyde, "Alias! of al my wo the welle. 

Than is my swete fo called Criseyde!" 

And wel nigh with the word for fere he deyde. 

And whan that Pandare herde hir name nevene, 
Lord! he was glad, and seyde, "Freend so dere, 
Now far a-right, for loves name in hevene! 
Love hath biset the wel, be of good chere; 
For of good name and wysdom and manere 
She hath y-nough, and eek of gentilesse. 
If she be fayr thow wost thy-self , I gesse. 

"Ne I nevere saw a more bountevous 
Of hir estat, ne a gladder, ne of speche 
A freendlier, ne a more gracious 
For to do wel, ne lasse had nede to seche 
What for to doon; and al this bet to eche 
In honour, to as fer as she may strecche, 
A kinges herte semeth by hires a wrecche. 

"And for- thy loke of good comfort thou be. 

For certeinly, the firste poynt is this 

Of noble corage and wel ordeyne, 

A man to have pees with him-self, y-wis. 

So oughtest thou, for nought but good it is 

To loven wel and in a worthy place. 

Thee oughte not to clepe it hap, but grace. 

"And also thenk, and ther-with glade thee, 
That sith thy lady vertuous is al. 
So folweth it that ther is som pitee 
Amonges alle thise othere in general; 
And for-thy see that thou in special 

(Requere nought that is ayein hir name: 
For vertu streccheth not him-self to shame. 

Sk.. I. 869-903 



1,589-623 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 117 

" But wel is me that evere I was born 

That thou biset art in so good a place. 

For, by my trouthe, in love I dorste have sworn 

Thee sholde nevere han tid thus fayr a grace. 

And wostow why? for thou were wont to chace ^ 

At Love in scorn, and for despyt him calle 

*Seynt Idiot, lord of thise foles alle.* 

"How often hastow maad thy nyce lapes, 
And seyd that Loves servants everichone 
Of nycetee ben verray Goddes apes; 
And some wolde monche hir mete alone, 
Ligging a-bedde, and make hem for to grone; 
And som, thou seydest, had a blaunche fevere, 
And preydest God he sholde nevere kevere! 

"Now beet thy brest, and sey to God of Love, 
'Thy grace, lord! For now I me repente 
If I mis-spak, for now my-self I love ! ' — 
Thus sey with al thyn herte in good entente.** 
Quod Troilus, ''A! lord! I me consente. 
And pray to thee my lapes thou foryive, 
And I shal nevere-more whyl I live." 

"Thou seyst wel," quod Pandare, "and now I hope 
That thou the goddes wraththe hast al apesed. 
And sithen thou hast wepen many a drope, 
And seyd swich thing wher-with thy god is plesed. 
Now wolde nevere God but thou were esed. - ' 
And think wel she of whom rist al thy wo 
Heer-after may thy comfort been al-so. 

"Wherfore I am, and wol be, ay redy 
To peyne me to do yow this servyse. 
For bothe yow to plese thus hope I 
Her-afterward; for ye beth bothe wyse, 
And conne it cdunseyl kepe in swich a wyse 
That no man shal the wyser of it be. 
And so may we be gladed alle three." 

Sk.. I, 904-917; 932-945: 988-994 



118 CHAUCER 1,624-658 

Whan Troilus had herd Pandare assented 
To been his help in loving of Criseyde, 
Wex of his wo, as who seyth, untormented, 
But hotter wex his love, and thus he seyde , , 
With sobre chere, al-though his herte pleyde: ' 
"Now blisful Venus helpe, er that I sterve, 
Of thee, Pandare, I may som thank deserve! 

"But dere frend, how shal myn wo ben lesse 
Til this be doon? and goode, eek telle me this: 
How wiltow seyn of me and my distresse? 
Lest she be wrooth, this drede I most, y-wis, 
Or nil not here or trowen how it is. 
Al this drede I, and eek for the manere 
Of thee, hir eem, she nil no swich thing here." 

Quod Pandarus, "Thou hast a ful gret care 

Lest that the cherl may falle out of the mon.^' 

Why, Lord! I hate of thee thy nyce fare! 

Why, entremete of that thou hast to done! 

For Goddes love, I bidde thee a bone: 

So lat me alone, and it shal be thy beste! " — 

" Why freend," quod he, " now do right as thee leste. 

"But herke, Pandare, o word, for I nolde 
That thou in me wendest so greet folye 
That to my lady I desiren sholde 
That toucheth harm or any vilenye. 
For dredelees, me were lever dye 
Than she of me ought elles understode 
But that that might e sounen in- to gode." 

Tho lough this Pajidare, and anoon answerde, 
"AnH T thy borw^P ly! no wight dooth but so! 
I roughte nought though that she stode and herde 
How that thou seyst; but far-wel, I wol go. 
A-dieu! be glad! God spcde us bo the two! 
Yif me this labour and this besinesse. 
And of my speed be thyn al that swetnesse." 

Sk., I, 1009-1043 



1,659-693 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 119 

Tho Troilus gan doun on knees to falle, 

And Pandare in his armes hente faste, 

And seyde, *'Now fy on the Grekes alle!* 

Yet, pardee, God shal helpe us at the laste. 

And dredelees, if that my lyf may laste, 

And God to-forn, lo, some of hem shal smerte. 

And yet me athinketh that this avaunt me astertel 

"Now, Pandare, I can no more seye, 

But thou wys, thou wost, thou mayst, thou art al! 

My lyf, my deeth, hool in thyn hond I leye. 

Help now," quod he. '' Yis, by my trouthe, I shal." 

"God yelde thee, freend, and this in special," 

Quod Troilus, "that thou me recomaunde 

To hir that to the deeth me may comaunde." 

This Pandarus tho, desirous to serve 

His fulle freend, than seyde in this manere, 

"Far-wel, and thenk I wol thy thank deserve. 

Have heer my trouthe, and that thou shalt wel here." — 

And wente his wey, thenking on this matere, 

And how he best mighte hir beseche of grace 

And finde a tyme ther-to and a place. 

For every wight that hath an hous to founde 
Ne renneth nought the werk for to biginne 
With rakei hond, but he wol byde a stounde. 
And sende his hertes lyne oute fro with-inne 
Alderfirst his purpos for to winne. 
Al this Pandare in his herte thoughte. 
And caste his werk ful wysly or he wroughte. 

But Troilus lay tho no lenger doun, 

But up anoon up-on his stede bay. 

And in the feld he pleyde tho leoun. 

Wo was that Greek that with him mette that day; 

And in the toun his manere tho forth ay 

So goodly was and gat him so in grace 

That ech him lovede that loked on his face. 

Sk..I, 1044-1078 



120 CHAUCER 1, 694-707. II, 1-14 

For he bicom the frendlyeste wight, 
The gentileste, and eek the moste free, 
The thriftieste and oon the beste knight, 
That in his tyme was or mighte be. 
Dede were his lapes and his crueltee, 
His heighe port and his manere estraunge, 
And ech of tho gan for a vertu chaunge. 

Now lat us stinte of Troilus a stounde, 
That fareth lyk a man that hurt is sore, 
And is somdel of aking of his wounde 
Y-Iissed wel, but heled no del more; 
And, as an esy pacient, the lore 
Abit of him that gooth aboute his cure. 
And thus he dryveth forth his aventure. 

Explicit Liber Primus. 



Book H 

Incipit Liber Secundus 

Out of these blake wawes for to sayle, 
O wind, O wind, the weder ginneth clere; 
For in this see the boot hath swich travayle, 
Of my conning that unnethe I it stere: 
This see clepe I the tempestous matere 
Of desespeyr that Troilus was inne. 
But now of hope the calendes biginne. 

O lady myn, that called art Cleo, 

Thou be my speed fro this forth, and my muse, 

To ryme wel this book til I have do. 

Me nedeth heer noon other art to use. 

For- why to every lover I me excuse 

That of no sentement I this endyte. 

But out of Latin in my tonge it wryte. 

;^ Sk.,1, 1079-1092; II, 1-14 



11.15-49 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 121 

In May, that moder is of monthes glade, 

That fresshe flour es, blewe, and whyte, and rede, 

Ben quike agayn that winter dede made, 

And ful of bawTne is fleting every mede, 

Whan Phebus doth his brighte hemes sprede 

Right in the whyte Bole, it so bitidde 

As I shal singe, on Mayes day the thridde, 

That Pandarus for al his wyse speche 
Felte eek his part of loves shottes kene 
That, coude he nevere so wel of loving preche, 
It made his hewe a-day ful ofte grene. 
So shoop it that him fil that day a tene J 
In love, for which in wo to bedde he wente 
And made er it was day ful many a wente. 

The swalwe Proigne with a sorwful lay, 
Whan morwe com, gan make hir weymen tinge 
Why she forshapen was; and evere lay 
Pandare a-bedde half in a slomeringe 
Til she so neigh him made hir chiteringe 
How Tereus gan forth hir suster take 
That with the noyse of hir he gan a- wake; 

And gan to calle, and dresse him up to ryse, 
Remembring him his erand was to done 
From Troilus, and eek his greet empryse ; 
And caste and knew in good plyt was the mone 
To doon viage, and took his wey ful sone 
Un-to his neces paleys ther bi-syde. 
Now lanus, god of entree, thou him gyde! 

Whan he was come un-to his neces place, 
"Wher is my lady?" to hir folk seyde he. 
And they him tolde; and he forth in gan pace, 
And fond two othere ladyes sete and she 
With-inne a paved parlour; and they three 
Herden a mayden reden hem the geste 
Of the Sege of Thebes whyl hem leste. 

Sk, II, 50-84 



122 CHAUCER ii.5o-84 

Quod Pandarus, "Ma dame, God yow see, 

With al your book and al the companye!'^ 

"Ey, uncle myn, welcome y-wis," quod she. 

And up she roos and by the hond in hye 

She took him faste, and seyde, ''This night thrye, 

To goode mote it turne, of yow I mette!" 

And with that word she doun on bench him sette. 

"Ye, nece, ye shal fare wel the bet, 

If God wole, al this yeer," quod Pandarus; 

"But I am sory that I have yow let 

To herken of your book ye preysen ihus. 

For Goddes love, what seith it? telle it us! 

Is it of love? O, som good ye me lere! " 

"Uncle," quod she, "your maistresse is not here!" 

With that they gonnen laughe, and tho she seyde, 
"This romaunce is of Thebes, that we rede. 
And we han herd how that King Laius deyde 
Thurgh Edippus his sone, and al that dede. 
And heer we stenten at these lettres rede. 
How the bisshop, as the book can telle, 
Amphiorax, fil thurgh the ground to helle.'* 

Quod Pandarus, "Al this knowe I my-selve. 
And al the assege of Thebes and the care. 
For her-of been ther maked bokes twelve: — 
But lat be this and telle me how ye fare! 
Do wey your barbe and shew your face bare! 
Do wey your book, rys up, and lat us daunce, 
And lat us don to May som observaunce ! " 

"Ey! God forbede!" quod she, "be ye mad? 

Is that a widewes lyf , so God you save? 

By God, ye maken me right sore a-drad,^' i ' ' 

Ye ben so wilde, it semeth as ye rave! 

It sate me wel bet ay in a cave 

To bidde, and rede on holy seyntes lyves: 

Lat may dens gon to daunce, and yonge wyves!" 

Sk.,n, 85-119 



11.85-119 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 123 

"As evere thryve I," quod this Pandarus, 

"Yet coude I telle a thing to doon you pleye." 

"Now uncle dere," quod she, "telle it us 

For Goddes love! Is than the assege aweye? 

I am of Grekes so ferd that I deye.iL^J/j^^^fV^-^^Y^ 

"Nay, nay," quod he, "as evere mote I thryve! 

It is a thing wel bet than swiche fy^e." 

"Ye, holy God!" quod she, "what thing is that? 

What? bet than swiche fyve? ey, nay, y-wis! 

For al this world ne can I reden what 

It sholde been. Som lape, I trowe, is this. 

And but your-selven telle us what it is. 

My wit is for to arede it al to lene. 

As helpe me God, I noot nat what ye mene." 

"And I your borowe, ne nevere shal, for me, 
This thing be told to yow, as mote I thryve!" 
"And why so, uncle myn? why so?" quod she. 
"By God," quod he, "that wol I telle as blyve; 
For prouder womman were ther noon on-lyve 
And ye it wiste, in al the toun of Troye. 
I lape nought, as evere have I loye!" 

Tho gan she wondren more than biforn 
A thousand fold, and doun hir eyen caste; 
For nevere sith the tyme that she was born 
To knowe thing desired she so faste. • v^^-*^' ^ 
And with a syk she seyde him at the laste, 
"Now, uncle myn, I nil yow nought displese 
Nor axen more that may do yow disese." 

So after this with many wordes glade 

And freendly tales and with mery chere 

Of this and that they pleyde and gunnen wade 

In many an uncouth glad and deep matere, — 

As freendes doon whan they ben met y-fere, — 

Til she gan axen him how Ector ferde. 

That was the tounes wal and Grekes yerde. 

Sk.,n, 120-154 



124 CHAUCER 11,120-154 

"Ful wel, I thanke it God," quod Pandarus, 
"Save in his arm he hath a litel wounde; 
And eek his fresshe brother Troilus, 
The wyse worthy Ector the secounde, 
In whom that every vertu Hst abounde, 
As alle trouthe and alle gentillesse, 
Wysdom, honour, fredom, and worthinesse." 

''By God," quod she, "of Ector that is sooth. 

Of Troilus the same thing trowe I ; 

For dredelees, men tellen that he dooth 

In armes day by day so worthily, 

And bereth him heer at hoom so gentilly 

To every wight, that al the prys hath he 

Of hem that me were levest preysed be." 

"Ye sey right sooth, y-wis," quod Pandarus; 
"For yesterday who-so had with him been. 
He might have wondred up-on Troilus; 
For nevere yet so thikke a swarm of been"' 
Ne fleigh as Grekes fro him gonne fleen. 
And thorugh the feld in every wightes ere 
Ther nas no cry but 'Troilus is there!' 

"Therto he is the freendlieste man 

Of greet estat that evere I saw my lyve; 

And wher him list, best felawshipe can 

To such as him thinketh able for to thryve." 

And with that word tho Pandarus as blyve 

He took his leve, and seyde, "I wol go henne." 

"Nay, blame have I, myn uncle," quod she thenne. 

"What eyleth yow to be thus wery sone 
And namelich of wommen? Wol ye so? 
Nay, sitteth down! By God, I have to done 
With yow, to speke of wisdom er ye go." 
And every wight that was a-boute hem tho 
That herde that, gan fer a-wey to stonde, 
Whyl they two had al that hem liste in honde. 

Sk.,II, 155-161; 183-196: 204-217 



11.155-189 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 125 

Whan that hir tale al brought was to an ende 
Of hire estat and of hir governaunce, 
Quod Pandarus, ''Now is it tyme I wende. 
But yet, I seye, aryseth, lat us daunce, 
And cast your widwes habit to mischaunce! 
What Kst yow thus your-self to disfigure, 
Sith yow is tid thus fair an aventure?'* 

''A! wel bithought! for love of God," quod she, 
"Shal I not witen what ye mene of this?" 
. "No, this thing axeth layser," tho quod he, 

' "And eek me wolde muche greve, y-wis. 

If I it tolde, and ye it toke amis. 
- Yet were it bet my tonge for to stille 

I Than seye a sooth that were ayeins your wille. 

"For, nece, by the Goddesse Minerve, 

And luppiter, that maketh the thonder ringe. 

And by the bHsful Venus that I serve. 

Ye been the womman in this world livinge, 

With-oute paramours, to my witinge, 

That I best love and lothest am to greve. 

And that ye witen wel your-self, I leve." 

"Y-wis, myn uncle," quod she, "grant mercy; 
Your freendship have I founden evere yit. 
I am to no man holden trewely 
So muche as yow, and have so litel quit. 
And, with the grace of God, emforth my wit 
As in my gilt I shal you nevere ofTende, 
And if I have er this, I wol amende. 

"But for the love of God I yow beseche. 
As ye ben he that I most love and triste, 
Lat be to me your fremde maner speche. 
And seye to me, your nece, what yow Uste." 
And with that word hir uncle anoon hir kiste, 
And seyde, "Gladly, leve nece dere. 
Tak it for good that I shal seye yow here." 

Sk.. II, 218-252 



126 CHAUCER 11.190-224 

With that she gan hir eyen doun to caste, 
And Pandarus to coghe gan a lyte, 
And seyde, "Nece, alwey, lo! to the laste, 
How-so it be that som men hem delyte 
With subtil art hir tales for to endyte, 
Yet for al that, in hir entencioun, 
Hir tale is al for som conclusioun. 

"And sithen thende is every tales strengthe, 

And this matere is so bihovely. 

What sholde I peynte or drawen it on lengthe 

To yow that been my freend so feithfully?" 

And with that word he gan right inwardly 

Biholden hir and loken on hir face. 

And seyde, ''On such a mirour goode grace!" 

Than thoughte he thus, "If I my tale endyte 
Ought hard, or make a proces any whyle. 
She shal no savour han ther-in but lyte, 
And trowe I wolde hir in my wille bigyle. 
For tendre wittes wenen al be wyle 
Ther-as they can nat pleynly understonde. 
For- thy hir wit to serven wol I fonde." — 

And loked on hir in a besy wyse, 

And she was war that he byheld her so, 

And seyde, "Lord! so fast? ye me avyse! 

Sey ye me nevere er now? What sey ye, no?" . 

"Yes, yes," quod he, "and bet wol er I go. 

But by my trouthe I thoughte now if ye 

Be fortunat, for now men shal it see. 

" Good aventure, O bele nece, have ye 
Ful lightly founden, and ye conne it take. 
And for the love of God and eek of me, 
Cacche it anoon lest aventure slake. 
What sholde I lenger proces of it make? 
Yif me your hand, for in this world is noon, 
If that you list, a wight so well begoon. 

Sk., II, 253-280; 288-294 



11,225-259 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 127 

" Beth nought agast, ne quaketh nat. Wher-to? 

Ne chaungeth nat for fere so your hewe. 

For hardely, the werste of this is do; 

And though my tale as now be to yow newe, 

Yet trist alwey ye shal me finde trewe. 

And were it thing that me thoughte unsittinge, 

To yow nolde I no swiche tales bringe." 

"Now, my good eem, for Goddes love, I preye," 

Quod she, "com of, and tel me what it is. 

For bothe I am agast what ye wol seye, 

And eek me longeth it to wite, y-wis. 

For whether it be wel or be amis, 

Sey on, lat me not in this fere dwelle!" 

"So wol T doon, now herkneth, I shal telle. 

"Now, nece myn, the kinges dere sone, 

The goode, wyse, worthy, fresshe, and free, 

Which alwey for to do wel is his wofie. 

The noble Troilus, so loveth thee ^-, ^ 

That, bot ye helpe, it wol his bane be. 

Lo, heer is al, what sholde I more seye? 

Doth what yow Hst to make him live or deye. 

"But if ye lete him deye, I wol sterve — 
Have her my trouthe, nece, I nil not lyen! — 
Al sholde I with this knyf my throte kerve!" 
With that the teres braste out of his yen, 
And seyde, "If that ye doon us bothe dyen, 
Thus giltelees, than have ye fisshed faire! 
What mende ye, though that we bothe apeyre? 

"And also thenk wel that this is no gaude; 
For me were lever thou and I and he 
Were hanged than I sholde been his baude. 
As heyghe, as men mighte on us alle y-see: 
I am thyn eem, the shame were to me 
As wel as thee if that I sholde assente, 
Thorugh myn abet, that he thyn honour shente. 

Sk., II, 302-329; 351-357 



128 CHAUCER ii. 260-294 

"Now understond, for I yow nought requere 
To binde yow to him thorugh no biheste. 
But only that ye make him bettre chere 
Than ye han doon er this, and more feste, 
So that his lyf be saved at the leste: 
This al and som, and playnly our entente. 
God helpe me so, I nevere other mente!" 

Criseyde, which that herde him in this wyse, 
Thoughte, "I shal fele what he meneth, y-wis." 
"Now eem," quod she, "what wolde ye devyse? 
What is your reed I sholde doon of this?" 
"That is wel seyd," quod he, "certayn, best is 
That ye him love ayein for his lovinge, 
As love for love is skilful guerdoninge. 

"Thenk eek how elde wasteth every houre 

In ech of yow a party of beautee; 

And therfore, er that age thee devoure, 

Go love, for, olde, ther wol no wight of thee. 

Lat this proverbe a lore un-to yow be: 

'To late y-war, quod Beautee, whan it paste;' 

And ' Elde daunteth Daunger at' the laste. ' 

"The kinges fool is wont to cryen loude 

Whan that him thinketh a womman bereth hir hye'' 

' So longe mote ye live, and alle proude, 

Til Crowes feet be growe under your ye, 

And sende yow than a mirour in to prye 

In which that ye may see your face a-morwe!' 

Nece, I bidde wisshe yow no more sorwe." 

With this he stente, and caste adoun the heed. 

And she bigan to breste a-wepe anoon. 

And seyde, "Alias, for wo! why nere I deed? 

For of this world the feith is al agoon! 

Alias! what sholden straunge to me doon 

When he that for my beste freend I wende 

Ret me to love, and sholde it me defende? " '^' • ■ 



Sk., II, 358-364; 386-413 



J 



95-329 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 129 

" Alias! I wolde han trusted doutelees 
That if that I thurgh my disaventure 
Had loved other him or Achilles, 
Ector, or any mannes creature, 
Ye nolde han had no mercy ne mesure 
On me, but alwey had me in repreve. 
This false world, alias! who may it leve?" 

With that she gan ful sorwfully to syke. 
"A! may it be no bet?" quod Pandarus; 
"By God, I shal no-more com heer this wyke, 
And God to-forn, that am mistrusted thus; 
I see ful wel that ye sette lyte of us 
Or of our deeth! Alias! I woful wrecche! 
Mighte he yet live, of me is nought to recche. 

" But sith it lyketh yow that I be deed, 
By Neptunus, that god is of the see. 
Fro this forth shal I nevere eten breed 
Til I myn owene herte blood may see; 
For certayn I wol deye as sone as he." — 
And up he sterte, and on his wey he raughte, 
Til she agayn him by the lappe caughte. 

Criseyde, which that wel neigh starf for fere, 
So as she was the ferfulleste wight 
That mighte be, and herde eek with hir ere 
And saw the sorwful ernest of the knight, 
And in his preyere eek saw noon unright, 
And for the harm that mighte eek fallen more 
She gan to rewe and dradde hir wonder sore; 

And thoughte thus, ''Unhappes fallen thikke 
Alday for love and in swich maner case, 
As men ben cruel in him-self and wikke. 
And if this man slee heer him-self, alias! 
In my presence it wol be no solas. 
What men wolde of hit deme I can nat seye. 
It nedeth me ful sleyly for to pleye." 

n, 414-420; 428-434; 442-462 



130 CHAUCER ii, 330-364 

And with a sorwful syk she seyde thrye, 
''A! Lord! what me is tid a sory chaunce! 
For myn estat now lyth in lupartye 
And eek myn emes lyf lyth in balaunce; 
But nathelees with Goddes governaunce 
I shal so doon, myn honour shal I kepe, 
And eek his lyf;" and stinte for to wepe. 

"Of harmes two the lesse is for to chese. 

Yet have I lever maken him good chere " '-" 

In honour than myn emes lyf to lese. 

Ye seyn ye no- thing elles me requere?" 

"No, wis," quod he, " myn owene nece dere." 

"Now wel," quod she, "and I wol doon my peyne. 

I shal myn herte ayeins my lust constreyne, 

"But that I nil not holden him in honde 
Ne love a man, ne can I not ne may ^ 
Ayeins my wille; but elles wol I fonoe, 
Myn honour sauf, plese him fro day to day. 
Ther-to nolde I nought ones have seyd nay. 
But that I dredde as in my fantasye. 
But cesse cause, ay cesseth maladye. 

"And heer I make a protestacioun 

That in this proces if ye depper go 

That certaynly, for no savacioun 

Of yow, though that ye sterve bothe two, 

Though al the world on o day be my fo, 

Ne shal I nevere on him han other routhe." — 

"I graunte wel," quod Pandare, "by my trouthe. 

"But may I truste wel ther-to," quod he, 

" That of this thing that ye han hight me here 

Ye wol it holden trewly un-to me?" 

"Ye, doutelees," quod she, "myn uncle dere." 

"Ne that I shal han cause in this matere," 

Quod he, "to pleyne, or after yow to preche?" 

"Why no, pardee! What nedeth more speche?" 

Sk., II, 463-497 



11.365-399 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 131 

Tho fillen they in othere tales glade 

Til at the laste, "O good eem," quod she tho, 

"For love of God, which that us bothe made, 

Tel me how first ye wisten of his wo: 

Wot noon of hit but ye?" He seyde, "No." 

''Can he wel speke of love?" quod she, ''I preye, 

Tel me, for I the bet me shal purveye." 

Tho Pandarus a litel gan to smyle 
And seyde, "By my trouthe I shal yow telle. 
This other day, nought gon ful longe whyle, 
In-with the paleys-gardyn by a welle, 
Gan he and I wel half a day to dwelle. 
Right for to speken of an ordenaunce, 
How we the Grekes mighte disavaunce. 

"Sone after that bigonne we to lepe, 
And casten with our dartes to and fro, 
Til at the laste he seyde he wolde slepe, 
And on the gres a-doun he leyde him tho. 
And I after gan rome to and fro 
Til that I herde, as that I welk allone, 
How he bigan ful wofully to grone. 

"Tho gan I stalke him softely bihinde, 

And sikerly the sothe for to seyne, 

As I can clepe ayein now to my minde. 

Right thus to Love he gan him for to pleyne: 

He seyde, 'Lord, have routhe up-on my peyne, 

Al have I been rebel in myn entente! 

Now mea culpa, lord! I me repente.' 

"And God wot nevere sith that I was born 
Was I so bisy no man for to preche, 
Ne nevere was to wight so depe y-sworn 
Or he me tolde who mighte been his leche. 
But now to yow rehersen al his speche, 
Or alle his woful wordes for to soune, 
Ne bid me not, but ye wol see me swoune. 

Sk., II, 498-525; 568-574 



132 CHAUCER ii.40(M34 

''And right good thrift I pray to God hav^ ye, 

That han swich oon y-caught with-oute net. 

And be ye wys as ye ben fair to see 

Wei in the ring than is the ruby set. 

Ther were nevere two so wel y-met, 

Whan ye ben his al hool as he is youre: 

Ther mighty God yet graunte us see that houre!" 

"Nay, therof spak I not, a, ha!" quod she, 

"As helpe me God, ye shenden every deel!" 

"O mercy, dere nece," anoon quod he, 

"What-so I spak I mente nought but weel. 

By Mars the god that helmed is of steel! 

Now beth nought wrooth, my blood, my nece dere! " 

"Now wel," quod she, "foryeven be it here!" 

With this he took his leve and hoom he wente; 
And Lord! how he was glad and wel bigoon! 
Criseyde aroos, no lenger she ne stente, 
But straught in-to hir closet wente anoon, 
And sette here doun as stille as any stoon. 
And every word gan up and doun to winde 
That he had seyd, as it com hir to minde. 

And wex somdel astonied in hir thought 

Right for the newe cas. But whan that she 

Was ful avysed, tho fond she right nought 

Of peril, why she oughte afered be. 

For man may love of possibilitee 

A womman so his herte may to-breste 

And she nought love ayein but-if hir leste. 

But as she sat allone and thoughte thus 

Thascry aroos at skarmishe al with-oute. 

And men cryde in the strete, "See, Troilus 

Hath right now put to flighte the Grekes route!" H 

With that gan al hir meynee for to shoute, 

"A! go we see, caste up the latis wyde! 

For thurgh this strete he moot to palays ryde! 

Sk., 11,582-616 



11,435-469 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 133 

"For other wey is fro the yate noon 
Of Dardanus, ther open is the cheyne." 
With that com he and al his folk anoon 
An esy pas ryding, in routes tweyne, 
Right as his happy day was, sooth to seyne 
For which, men say, may nought disturbed be 
That shal bityden of necessitee. 

This Troilus sat on his baye stede, 

Al armed save his heed ful richely, 

And wounded was his hors, and gan to blede, 

On which he rood a pas ful sof tely. 

But swich a knightly sighte, trewely. 

As was on him, was nought with-outen faile 

To loke on Mars, that god is of batayle. 

So lyk a man of armes and a knight 
He was to seen, fulfild of heigh prowesse; 
For bothe he had a body and a might 
To doon that thing, as wel as hardinesse. 
And eek to seen him in his gere him dresse, 
So freshe, so yong, so weldy semed he, 
It was an hevene up-on him for to see. 

His helm to-hewen was in twenty places, 

That by a tissew heng his bak bihinde, 

His sheld to-dasshed was with swerdes and maces, 

In which men mighte many an arwe finde 

That thirled hadde horn and nerf and rinde. 

And ay the peple cryde, "Heer cometh our loye, 

And, next his brother, holder up of Troye!" 

For which he wex a litel reed for shame 

Whan he the peple up-on him herde cryen, 

That to biholde it was a noble game, 

How sobreliche he caste doun his yen. 

Criseyda gan al his chere aspyen. 

And leet so softe it in hir herte sinke. 

That to hir-self she seyde, ''Who yaf me drinke?" 

Sk.,n, 617-651 



134 CHAUCER ii. 470-504 

For of hir owene thought she wex al reed, 
Remembring hir right thus, "Lo, this is he 
Which that myn uncle swereth he moot be deed 
But I on him have mercy and pitee; " 
And with that thought for pure a-shamed she 
Gan in hir heed to pulle, and that as faste, 
Whyl he and al the peple for-by paste, 

And gan to caste and rollen up and doun 
With-in hir thought his excellent prowesse, 
And his estat, and also his renoun. 
His wit, his shap, and eek his gentillesse. 
But most hir favour was, for his distresse 
Was al for hir, and thoughte it was a routhe 
To sleen swich oon if that he mente trouthe. 

Now mighte som envyous langle thus: 
"This was a sodeyn love! How mighte it be 
That she so lightly lovede Troilus 
Right for the firste sighte; ye, pardee?" 
Now who-so seyth so, mote he nevere thee! 
For every thing a ginning hath it nede 
Er al be wrought, with-outen any drede. 

For I sey nought that she so sodeynly 
Yaf him hir love, but that she gan enclyne 
To lyke him first, and I have told yow why; 
And after that, his manhod and his pyne 
Made love with-in hir for to myne. 
For which by proces and by good servyse 
He gat hir love, and in no sodeyn wyse. 

And Lord! so she gan in hir thought argue 
In this matere of which I have yow told. 
And what to doon best were, and what eschue, 
That ply ted she ful ofte in many fold. 
Now was hir herte warm, now was it cold. 
And what she thoughte somwhat shal I wryte, 
As to myn auctor listeth for to endyte. 

Sk., II, 652-679; 694-700 



11,505-539 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 135 

She thoughte wel that Troilus persone 
She knew by sighte and eek his gentillesse, 
And thus she seyde, ^'Al were it nought to done 
To graunte him love, yet for his worthinesse 
It were honour with pley and with gladnesse 
In honestee with swich a lord to dele 
For myn estat and also for his hele. 

" Eek wel wot I my kinges sone is he, 
And sith he hath to see me swich delyt, 
If I wolde utterly his sighte flee 
Paraunter he mighte have me in dispyt, 
Thurgh which I mighte stonde in worse plyt. 
Now were I wys me hate to purchace 
With-outen nede ther I may stonde in grace! 

^'In every thing, I woot, ther lyth mesure. 
For though a man forbede dronkenesse. 
He nought for-bet that every creature 
Be drinkelees for alwey, as I gesse. 
Eek sith I woot for me is his distresse, 
I ne oughte not for that thing him despyse, 
Sith it is so he meneth in good wyse. 

''And eek I knowe of longe tyme agoon 

His thewes goode and that he is not nyce. 

Ne avauntour, seyth men, certein, is he noon; 

To wys is he to do so gret a vyce. 

Ne als I nel him nevere so cheryce 

That he may make avaunt, by luste cause. 

He shal me nevere binde in swich a clause. 

''Now set a cas, the hardest is, y-wis, 

Men mighten deme that he loveth me: 

What dishonour were it un-to me this? 

May I him lette of that? Why nay, pardee! 

I knowe also, and alday here and see. 

Men loven wommen al this toun aboute; 

Be they the wers? Why, nay, with-outen doute! 

Sk., II. 701-735 



136 CHAUCER ii. 54o-s74 

"I thenk eek how he able is for to have 
Of al this noble toun the thrif tieste 
To been his love, so she hir honour save; 
For out and out he is the worthieste, 
Save only Ector, which that is the beste. 
And yet his lyf al lyth now in my cure, 
But swich is love and eek myn aventure. 

"Ne me to love, a wonder is it nought; 
For wel wot I my-self, so God me spede, 
Al wolde I that noon wiste of this thought, 
I am oon the fayreste, out of drede, 
And goodheste, who-so taketh hede; 
And so men seyn in al the toun of Troye. 
What wonder is it though he of me have loye? 

"I am myn owene woman, wel at ese, 

I thank it God, as after myn estat; 

Right yong, and stonde unteyd in lusty lese, 

With-outen lalousye or swich debat. 

Shal noon housbonde seyn to me 'Chekmat!' 

For either they ben ful of lalousye. 

Or maisterful, or loven novelrye. 

"What shal I doon? to what fyn hve I thus? 
Shal I nat loven in cas if that me leste? 
What, par dieuxl I am nought religious! 
And though that I myn herte sette at reste 
Upon this knight, that is the worthieste. 
And kepe alwey myn honour and my name. 
By alle right it may do me no shame." 

But right as whan the sonne shyneth brighte. 
In March that chaungeth of te tyme his face. 
And that a cloude is put with wind to flighte 
Which over-sprat the sonne as for a space, 
A cloudy thought gan thorugh hir soule pace, 
That over-spradde hir brighte thoughtes alle, 
So that for fere almost she gan to falle. 

Sk., II, 736-770 



11.575-609 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 137 

That thought was this: ''Alias! sin I am free, 

Sholde I now love, and putte in lupartye 

My sikernesse, and thrallen libertee? 

Alias! how dorste I thenken that folye? 

May I nought wel in other folk aspye 

Hir dredful loye, hir constreynte, and hir peyne? 

Ther loveth noon that she nath why to pleyne." 

And after that hir thought bigan to clere, 
And seyde, "He which that no- thing under-taketh, 
No thing ne acheveth, be him looth or dere." 
And with an other thought hir herte quaketh; 
Than slepeth hope, and after drede awaketh: 
Now hoot, now cold, but thus bi-twixen tweye 
She rist hir up and wente hir for to pleye. 

The dayes honour and the hevenes ye, 
The nightes fo, — al this clepe I the sonne, — 
Gan westren faste, and dounward for to wrye, 
As he that had his dayes cours y-ronne; 
And whyte thinges wexen dimme and donne 
For lak of light, and sterres for to appere, 
That she and al hir folk in wente y-fere. 

So whan it lyked hir to goon to reste, 

And voyded weren they that voyden oughte, 

She seyde that to slepe wel hir leste. 

Hir wommen sone til hir bed hir broughte. 

Whan al was bust, than lay she stille and thoughte 

Of al this thing the manere and the wyse. 

Reherce it nedeth nought, for ye ben wyse. 

A nightingale upon a cedre grene 
Under the chambre-wal ther as she lay 
Ful loude sang ayein the mone shene, 
Paraunter, in his briddes wyse, a lay 
Of love, that made hir herte fresh and gay. 
That herkned she so longe in good entente, 
Til at the laste the dede sleep hir hente. 

Sk.,II. 771-777; 806-812; 904-924 



138 CHAUCER ii, 610-644 

And as she sleep, anoon-right tho hir mette 

How that an egle, fathered whyt as boon, 

Under hir brest his longe clawes sette, 

And oute hir herte he rente, and that a-noon, 

And did his herte in-to hir brest to goon. 

Of which she nought agroos ne no-thing smerte, 

And forth he iieigh with herte left for herte. 

Now lat hir slepe, and we our tales holde 

Of Troilus, that is to paleys riden 

Fro the scarmuche, of the which I tolde, 

And in his chambre sit, and hath abiden 

Til two or three of his messages yeden 

For Pandarus, and soughten him ful faste 

Til they him founde and broughte him at the laste. 

This Pandarus com leping in at ones 
And seide thus, "Who hath ben wel y-bete 
To-day with swerdes and with slinge-stones 
But Troilus, that hath caught him an hete?" 
And gan to lape, and seyde, "Lord, so ye swete! 
But rys and lat us soupe and go to reste." 
And he answerde him, "Do we as thee leste." 

With al the haste goodly that they mighte 
They spedde hem fro the souper un-to bedde; 
And every wight oute at the dore him dighte. 
And whet him list upon his wey he spedde. 
But Troilus, that thoughte his herte bledde 
For wo, til that he herde som tydinge. 
He seyde, "Freend, shal I now wepe or singe?" 

Quod Pandarus, "Ly stille and lat me slepe, 
And don thyn hood, thy nedes spedde be. 
And chees if thou wolt singe or daunce or lepe: 
At shorte wordes, thow shalt trowe me. 
Sire, my nece wol do wel by thee 
And love thee best, by God and by my trouthe. 
But lak of pursuit make it in thy slouthe. 

Sk., II, 925-959 



11.645-679 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 139 

" For thus ferforth I have thy work bigonne, 
Fro day to day, til this day by the morwe, 
Hir love of freendship have I to thee wonne, 
^ ^\ And also hath she leyd hir teyth to borwe. 
^ '^s Algate a foot is hameled of thy sorwe.'* 
What sholde I lenger sermon of it holde? 
As ye han herd bifore, al he him tolde. 

But right as floures, thorugh the colde of night 
Y-closed, stoupen on hir stalkes lowe, 
Redressen hem a-yein the sonne bright, 
And spreden on hir Icinde cours by rowe, 
Right so gan tho his eyen up to thro we 
This Troilus, and seyde, "O Venus dere, 
Thy might, thy grace, y-heried be it here!" 

And to Pandare he held up bothe his hondes, 
And seyde, "Lord, al thyn be that I have. 
- For I am hool, al brosten been my bondes. 
A thousand Troians who-so that me yave, 
Ech after other, God so wis me save, 
Ne mighte me so gladen. Lo, myn herte, 
It spredeth so, for loye it wol to-sterte!" 

"Al esily, now, for the love of Marte," ^ 

Quod Pandarus, "for every thing hath tyme. 
So longe abyd til that the night departe; 
For al so siker as thow lyst here by me, 
And God toforn, I wol be ther at pryme, 
And for-thy werk somwhat as I shal seye, 
Or on som other wight this charge leye. 

" I woot wel that thow wyser art than I 
A thousand fold, but if I were as thou, 
God helpQ me so, as I wolde outrely 
Right of my owene hond wryte hir right now 
A lettre, in which I wolde hir tellen how 
I ferde amis, and hir beseche of routhe. 
Now help thy-self, and leve it not for slouthe. 

Sk., IT, 960-980; 988-994; 1002-1008 



140 CHAUCER ii, 680-714 

"And I my-self shal ther-with to hir goon; 
And whan thou wost that I am with hir there, 
Worth thou up-on a courser right anoon, 
Ye, hardily, right in thy beste gere, 
And ryd forth by the place as nought ne were; 
And thou shalt finde us, if I may, sittinge 
At som windowe, in- to the stret^ lokinge. 

"And if thee list than may stow us saluwe. 
And up-on me make thy contenaunce. 
But, by thy lyf, be war and faste eschuwe 
To tarien ought; God shilde us fro mischaunce! 
Ryd forth thy wey, and hold thy governaunce, 
And we shal speke of thee som-what, I trowe, 
Whan thou art goon, to do thyn eres glowe! 

"Touching thy lettre, thou art wys y-nough, 
I woot thow nilt it digneUche endyte; 
As make it with thise argumentes tough; 
Ne scrivenish or craftily thou it wryte. 
Beblotte it with thy teres eek a lyte. 
And if thou wryte a goodly word al softe, 
Though it be good reherce it not to ofte. 

" Ne lompre eek no discordaunt thing y-fere, 
As thus, to usen termes of phisyk. 
In loves termes hold of thy matere 
The forme alwey, and do that it be lyk; 
For if a peyntour wolde peynte a pyk 
With asses feet, and hede it as an ape. 
It cordeth nought; so nere it but a lape." 

This counseyl lyked wel to Troilus; 

But as a dreedful lover he seyde this: 

"Alias, my dere brother, Pandarus, 

I am ashamed for to wryte, y-wis, 

Lest of myn innocence I seyde a-mis, 

Or that she nolde it for despyt receyve. 

Thanne were I deed, ther mighte it no- thing weyve.^ 

Sk., II, 1009-1029; 1037-1050 



i 



11,715-749 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 141 

To that Pandare answerde, "If thee lest, 
Do that I seye, and lat me therwith goon. 
For by that Lord that formed est and west, 
I hope of it to bringe answere anoon 
Right of hir hond; and if that thou nilt noon, 
Lat be, and sory mote he been his lyve, 
Ayeins thy lust that helpeth thee to thryve." 

Quod Troilus, '^ Depardieux, I assente. 

Sin that thee list, I will aryse and wryte, 

And blisful God preye ich with good entente 

The vyage, and the lettre I shal endyte. 

So spede it! And thou Minerva, the whyte, 

Yif thou me wit my lettre to devyse!" 

And sette him doun, and wroot right in this wyse. — 

First he gan hir his righte lady calle. 
His hertes lyf, his lust, his sorwes leche, 
His blisse, and eek thise othere termes alle 
That in swich cas these loveres alle seche. 
And in ful humble wyse, as in his speche, 
He gan him recomaunde un-to hir grace, — 
To telle al how, it axeth muchel space. 

And after this ful lowly he hir preyde 

To be nought wrooth, though he of his folye 

So hardy was to hir to wryte, and seyde 

That love it made or elles moste he dye. 

And pitously gan mercy for to crye; 

And after that he seyde, and ley ful loude, 

Him-self was litel worth, and lesse he coude; 

And that she sholde han his conning excused 

That litel was, and eek he dredde hir so. 

And his unworthinesse he ay acused; 

And after that than gan he telle his wo; 

But that was endeles, withouten ho; 

And seyde he wolde in trouthe alwey him holde; — 

And radde it over, and gan the lettre folde. 

Sk.. II, 1051-1085 



142 CHAUCER ii. 750-784 

And with his salte teres gan he bathe 
The ruby in his signet, and it sette 
Upon the wex deliverHche and rathe. 
Ther-with a thousand tymes er he lette 
He kiste tho the lettre that he shette, 
And seyde, "Lettre, a blisful destenee 
Thee shapen is, my lady shal thee see!" 

This Pandare took the lettre, and that by tyme 
A-morwe, and to his neces paleys sterte. 
And faste he swoor that it was passed pryme. 
And gan to lape, and seyde, *'Y-wis, myn herte, 
So fresh it is, al-though it sore smerte, 
I may not slepe nevere a Mayes morwe. 
I have a loly wo, a lusty sorwe." 

Criseyde, whan that she hir uncle herde, 

With dreedful herte and desirous to here 

The cause of his cominge, thus answerde, 

"Now by your feyth, myn uncle," quod she, "dere, 

What maner windes gydeth yow now here? 

Tel us your loly wo and your penaunce. 

How ferforth be ye put in loves daunce?" 

*'By God," quod he, "I hoppe alwey bihinde!" 
And she to-laugh, it thoughte hir herte breste. 
Quod Pandarus, "Loke alwey that ye finde 
Game in myn hood, but herkneth if yow leste. 
Ther is right now come in-to toune a geste, 
A Greek espye, and telleth newe thinges. 
For which come I to telle yow tydinges. 

"Into the gardin go we, and we shal here 
Al prevely of this a long sermoun." 
With that they wenten arm in arm y-fere 
In-to the gardin from the chaumbre doun. 
And whan that he so fer was that the soun 
Of that he speke, no man here mighte, 
He seyde hir thus, and out the lettre plighte: 

Sk., II, 1086-1120 






11.785-819 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 143 

"Lo, he that is al hoolly youres free 
Him recomaundeth lowly to your grace, 
And sent to you this lettre heer by me. 
Avyseth you on it whan ye han space, 
And of som goodly answere yow purchace, 
Or, helpe me God, so pleynly for to seyne, 
He may not longe liven for his peyne." 

Ful dredfully tho gan she stonde stille, 
And took it nought, but al hir humble chere 
Gan for to chaunge, and seyde, "Scrit ne bille, 
For love of God, that toucheth swich matere, 
Ne bring me noon! And also, uncle dere. 
To myn estat have more reward I preye 
Than to his lust. What sholde I more seye? 

"And loketh now if this be resonable, 

And letteth nought for favour ne for slouthe 

To seyn a sooth: Now were it covenable 

To myn estat, by God and by your trouthe, 

To taken it, or to han of him routhe. 

In harming of my-self or in repreve? 

Ber it ayein, for him that ye on leve!" 

This Pandarus gan on hir for to stare. 
And seyde, "Now is this the grettest wonder 
That evere I sey! Lat be this nyce fare! 
To deethe mote I smiten be with thonder 
If, for the citee which that stondeth yonder, 
Wolde I a lettre un-to yow bringe or take 
To harm of yow. What list yow thus it make? 

" But thus ye faren wel neigh alle and some 
That he that most desireth yow to serve, 
Of him ye recche leest wher he bicome. 
And whether that he live or elles sterve. 
But for al that that evere I may deserve. 
Refuse it nought," quod he and hente hir faste. 
And in hir bosom the lettre doun he thraste. 

Sk.. n, 1121-1155 



144 CHAUCER ii.820-8S4 

And seyde hir, "Now cast it away anoon, 

That folk may seen and gauren on us tweye." 

Quod she, "I can abyde til they be goon," 

And gan to smyle, and seyde him, "Eem, I preye, 

Swich answere as yow Hst your-self purveye. 

For trewely I nil no lettre wryte." 

"No? Than wol I," quod he, "so ye endyte." 

Therwith she lough, and seyde, "Go we dyne." 
And he gan at him-self to lape faste. 
And seyde, "Nece, I have so greet a pyne 
For love that every other day I faste;" 
And gan his beste lapes forth to caste, 
And made hir so laugh at his folye 
That she for laughter wende for to dye. 

And whan that she was comen in-to halle, 

"Now eem," quod she, "we wol go dyne anoon." 

And gan some of hir women to hir calle. 

And streyght in-to hir chaumbre gan she goon. 

But of hir besinesses, this was oon 

A-monges othere thinges, out of drede, 

Ful prively this lettre for to rede; 

Avysed word by word in every lyne. 

And fond no lak, she thoughte he coude good; 

And up it putte, and wente hir in to dyne. 

And Pandarus, that in a studye stood, 

Er he was war she took him by the hood 

And seyde, "Ye were caught er that ye wiste!" 

"I vouche sauf," quod he, "do what yow liste." 

Tho wesshen they, and sette hem doun and ete. 
And after noon ful sleyly Pandarus 
Gan drawe him to the windowe next the strete. 
And seyde, "Nece, who hath arayed thus 
The yonder hous that stant afor-yeyn us?" 
"Which hous?" quod she, and gan for to biholde, 
And knew it wel, and whos it was him tolde, 

St., II, 1156-1190 



11,855-889 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 145 

And fillen forth in speche of thinges smale, 
And seten in the windowe bothe tweye. 
Whan Pandarus saw tyme un-to his tale, 
And saw wel that hir folk were alle a-weye, 
"Now nece myn, tel on," quod he, ''I seye. 
How lyketh yow the lettre that ye woot? 
Can he ther-on? For by my trouthe I noot." 

Therwith al rosy hewed tho wex she. 
And gan to humme, and seyde, "So I trowe." 
"Acquyte him wel, for Goddes love," quod he; 
"My-self to medes wol the lettre sowe," 
And held his hondes up, and sat on knowe, 
"Now goode nece, be it nevere so lyte, , ^ 
Yif me the labour it to sowe and plyte.^' 

"Ye, for I can so wryte," quod she tho; 
"And eek I noot what I sholde to him seye." 
"Nay, nece," quod Pandare, "sey not so. 
Yet at the leste thanketh him, I preye. 
Of his good wille, and doth him not to deye. 
Now for the love of me, my nece dere, 
Refuseth not at this tyme my preyere." 

" Depar-dieux,'' quod she, "God leve al be welt 

God helpe me so, this is the firste lettre 

That evere I wroot, ye, al or any del." 

And in-to a closet, for to avyse hir bettre, 

She wente allone, and gan hir herte unfettre 

Out of disdaynes prison but a lyte; 

And sette hir doun and gan a lettre wryte. 

Of which to telle in short is myn entente 
Theffect as fer as I can understonde: — 
She thonked him of al that he wel mente 
Towardes hir, but holden him in honde 
She nolde nought, ne make hir-selven bonde 
In love, but as hir suster him to plese 
She wolde fayn, to doon his herte an ese. 

Sk., II, 1191-1225 



146 CHAUCER ii,89(H)24 

She shette it, and to Pandarus gan goon, 

Ther as he sat and loked in- to strete, 

And doun she sette hir by him on a stoon 

Of laspre, up-on a quisshin gold y-bete, 

And seyde, "As wisly helpe me God the grete, 

I nevere did a thing with more peyne 

Than wryte this, to which ye me constreyne;" 

And took it him. He thonked hir and seyde: 
"God woot, of thing ful ofte looth bigonne 
Cometh ende good; and nece myn, Criseyde, 
That ye to him of hard now ben y-wonne 
Oughte he be glad, by God and yonder sonne! 
For- why men sey th, ' Impressiounes lighte 
Ful lightly been ay redy to the flighte.' " 

And right as they declamed this matere, 
Lo, Troilus, right at the stretes ende, 
Com ryding with his tenthe som y-fere 
Al softely, and thiderward gan bende 
Ther-as they sete, as was his wey to wende 
To paleys-ward. And Pandare him aspyde. 
And seyde, "Nece, y-see who cometh here ryde! 

"O flee not in! — he seeth us, I suppose, — 
Lest he may thinke that ye him eschuwe." 
"Nay, nay," quod she, and wex as reed as rose. 
With that he gan hir humbly to saluwe. 
With dreedful chere, and ofte his hewes muwe; 
And up his look debonairly he caste, 
And bekkede on Pandare, and forth he paste. 

Pandare, which that stood hir faste by, 

Felte iren hoot, and he bigan to smyte. 

And seyde, "Nece, I pray yow hertely, 

Tel me that I shal axen yow a lyte. 

A womman, that were of his deeth to wyte 

With-outen gilt but for hir lakkede routhe, 

Were it wel doon? " Quod she, "Nay, by my trouthe!" 

Sk.,II, 1226-1239; 1247-1260; 1275-1281 



»25-959 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 147 

''God help^ me so," quod he, "ye sey me sooth. 

Ye felen wel your-self that I not lye. 

Lo, yond he rit!" Quod she, "Ye, so he dooth." 

"Wel," quod Pandare, "as I have told yow thrye, 

Lat be your nyce shame and your folye. 

And spek with him in esing of his herte. 

Lat nycetee not do yow bothe smerte." 

But ther-on was to heven and to done: 

Considered al thing it may not be; 

And why? for shame; and it were eek to sone 

To graunten him so greet a libertee. 

For playnly hir entente, as seyde she, 

Was for to love him unwist if she mighte, 

And guerdon him with no-thing but with sighte. 

But Pandarus though te, "It shal not be so, 

If that I may. This nyce opinioun 

Shal not be hold en fully yeres two." 

What sholde I make of this a long sermoun? 

He moste assente on that conclusioun 

As for the tyme; and whan that it was eve, 

And al was wel, he roos and took his leve. 

And on his wey ful faste homward he spedde, 

And right for loye he felte his herte daunce; 

And Troilus he fond alone a-bedde, 

That lay as dooth these loveres, in a traunce, 

Bitwixen hope and derk desesperaunce. 

But Pandarus right at his in-cominge 

He song, as who seyth, "Lo! sumwhat I bringe." 

And seyde, "Who is in his bed so sone 
Y-buried thus?" "It am I, freend," quod he. 
"Who Troilus? Nay, helpe me so the mone," 
Quod Pandarus, " thou shalt aryse and see 
A charme that was sent right now to thee. 
The which can helen thee of thyn accesse. 
If thou do forth- with al thy besinesse." 

11,1282-1316 



148 CHAUCER 11,960-994 

"Ye, through the might of God!" quod Troilus. 

And Pandarus gan him the lettre take, 

And seyde, "Pardee, God hath holpen us. 

Have heer a Hght, and loke on al this blake." 

But ofte gan the herte glade and quake 

Of Troilus, whyl that he gan it rede, 

So as the wordes yave him hope or drede. 

But fynally, he took al for the beste 

That she him wroot, for sumwhat he biheld 

On which, him thoughte, he mighte his herte reste, 

Al covered she the wordes under sheld. 

Thus to the more worthy part he held. 

That, what for hope and Pandarus biheste, 

His grete wo for-yede he at the leste. 

Wherfore I seye alwey that day and night 

This Troilus gan to desiren more 

Than he did erst, thurgh hope, and did his might 

To pressen on, as by Pandarus lore, 

And wryten to hir of his sorwes sore 

Fro day to day. He leet it not ref reyde 

That by Pandare he wroot somwhat or seyde. 

But to Pandare alwey was his recours. 

And pitously gan ay til him to pleyne, 

And him bisoughte of rede and som socours. 

And Pandarus, that sey his wode peyne, 

Wex wel neigh deed for routhe, sooth to seyne. 

And bisily with al his herte caste 

Som of his wo to sleen, and that as faste. 

And seyde, "Lord and freend and brother dere, 
God woot that thy disese dooth me wo. 
But woltow stinten al this woful chere, 
And, by my trouthe, or it be dayes two, 
And God to-forn, yet shal I shape it so 
That thou shalt come in-to a certayn place, 
Ther-as thou mayst thy-self hir preye of grace. 

Sk.,ll, 1317-1330; 1338-1344; 1352-1365 






11.995-1029 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 149 

''But Troilus, yet telle me, if thee lest, 

A thing now which that I shal axen thee: 

Which is thy brother that thou lovest best 

As in thy verray hertes privetee?" 

" Y-wis, my brother Deiphebus," quod he. 

"Now," quod Pandare, "er houres twyes twelve, 

He shal thee ese unwist of it him-selve. 

"Now lat me allone and werken as I may," 
Quod he; and to Deiphebus wente he tho 
Which had his lord and grete freend ben ay. 
Save Troilus no man he lovede so. 
To telle in short, with-outen wordes mo. 
Quod Pandarus, "I pray yow that i)(e be 
Freend to a cause which that toucheth me." 

" Yis, pardee," quod Deiphebus, " wel thow wost, 

In al that evere I may, and God to-fore, 

Al nere it but for man I love most. 

My brother Troilus. But sey wherfore 

It is; for sith that day that I was bore, 

I nas, ne nevere-mo to been I thinke, 

Ayeins a thing that mighte thee for- thinke." b<xy^\ 

Pandare gan him thonke, and to him seyde, 
"Lo, sir, I have a lady in this toun 
That is my nece, and called is Criseyde, 
Which som men wolden doon oppressioun 
And wrongfully have hir possessioun. 
Wherfore I of your lordship yow biseche 
To been our freend, with-oute more speche." 

Deiphebus him answerde, "O, is not this. 
That thow spekest of to me thus straungely, 
Criseyda my freend? " He seyde, " Yis." 
"Than nedeth," quod Deiphebus hardely, 
"Na-more to speke; for trusteth wel that I 
Wol be hir champioun with spore and yerde. 
I ro\ighte nought though alle hir foos it herde. 

Sk., II, 1394-1428 ^^"^ 



150 CHAUCER ii,io3o-io64 

''But telle me, thou that woost al this matere, 
How I might best avayl^i? Now, lat see." 
Quod Pandarus, "If ye, my lord so dere, 
Wolden as now don this honour to me, 
To prayen hir to-morwe, lo, that she 
Com un-to yow hir playntes to devyse, . 
Hir adversaries wolde of hit agryse. . '^ ^^*^^ 

''And if I more dorste preye as now, 

And chargen yow to have so greet travayle, 

To han som of your bretheren heer with yow 

That mighten to hir cause bet avayle, 

That woot I wel she mighte nevere fayle ^. 

For to be holpen, what at your instaunce, ^Ji/ 

What with hir othere freendes governaunce." 

Deiphebus, which that comen was of kinde 
To al honour and bountee to consente, 
Answerde, "It shal be doon. And I can finde 
Yet gretter help to this in myn entente. 
What wolt thow seyn if I for Eleyne sente 
To speke of this? I trowe it be the beste; 
For she may leden Paris as hir leste.ki^*-*-*^ 

"Of Ector, which that is my lord, my brother. 
It nedeth nought to preye him freend to be. 
For I have herd him o tyme and eek other 
Speke of Criseyde swich honour that he 
May seyn no bet, swich hap to him hath she. 
It nedeth nought his helpes for to crave; 
He shal be swich right as we wole him have. 

" Spek thou thy-self also to Troilus 

On my bihalve, and pray him with us dyne." 

"Sir, al this shal be doon," quod Pandarus; 

And took his leve, and nevere gan to fyne, 

But to his neces hous as streyt as lyne 

He com; and fond hir fro the mete aryse; 

And sette him doun, and spak right in this wyse. 

Sk., II, 1429-1463 



11.1065-1099 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 151 

He seyde, '*0 veray God, so have I ronne! 

Lo, nece myn, see ye nought how I swete? 

I noot whether ye the more thank me conne. 

Be ye nought war how that fals Pohphete 

Is now aboute eft-sonqs for to plete 

And bringe on yow advocacyes newe?" ^ |^ o^, 

"I? No," quod she, and chaunged al hir hewe. 

''What is he more aboute? me to drecche 
And doon me wrong? What shal I do, alias? 
Yet of him-self no-thing ne wolde I recche, 
Nere it for Antenor and Eneas, 
That been his freendes in swich maner cas. 
But for the love of God, myn uncle dere. 
No fors of that, lat him have al y-fere; 

''Withouten that, I have ynough for us." 
"Nay," quod Pandare, ''it shal no-thing be so. 
For I hav^ been right now at Deiphebus 
And Ector and myn othere lordes mo, 
And shortly maked ech of hem his fo. 
That by my thrift, he shal it nevere winne 
For ought he can, whan that so he biginne." 

And as they casten what was best to done, 
Deiphebus of his owene curtasye 
Com hir to preye in his propre persone 
To holde him on the morwe companye 
At diner, which she nolde not denye. 
But goodly gan to his preyere obeye. 
He thonked hir, and wente up-on his weye. 

Whan this was doon, this Pandare up a-noon, 

To telle in short, and forth gan for to wende 

To Troilus as stille as any stoon. 

And al this thing he tolde him word and ende. 

And how that he Deiphebus gan to blende. 

And seyde him, ''Now is tyme, if that thou conne, 

To ber? thee wel to-morwe and al is wonne. 

Sk., II, 1464-1498 



152 CHAUCER 11,1100-1134 

"Thow shalt gon over night, and that as blyve, 
Un-to Deiphebus hous as thee to pleye, 
Thy maladye a-wey the bet to dryve, 
For- why thou semest syk, soth for to seye. 
Sone after that, doun in thy bed thee leye 
And sey thow mayst no lenger up endure, 
And ly right ther, and byd thyn aventure. 

" Sey that thy f evere is wont thee for to take 
The same tyme and lasten til a-morwe. 
And lat see now how wel thou canst it make; 
For par-dee, syk is he that is in sorwe. 
Go now, farwel! And, Venus heer to borwe, 
I hope, and thou this purpos holde ferme, 
Thy grace she shal fully ther conferme." 

Quod Troilus, ^'Y-wis, thou nedelees 

Counseylest me that sykliche I me feyne! 

For I am syk in ernest, doutelees, 

So that wel neigh I sterve for the peyne." 

Quod Pandarus, "Thou shalt the bettre pleyne. 

And hast the lasse nede to countrefete; 

For him men demen hoot that men seen swete. 

''Lo, hold thee at thy triste cloos, and I 
Shal wel the deer un-to thy bowe dryve." 
Therwith he took his leve al softely, 
And Troilus to paleys wente blyve. 
So glad ne was he nevere in al his lyve; 
And to Pandarus reed gan al assente, 
And to Deiphebus hous at night he wente. 

What nedeth yow to tellen al the chere 

That Deiphebus un-to his brother made, 

Or his accesse, or his syklych manere. 

How men gan him with clothes for to lade 

Whan he was leyd, and how men wolde him glade? 

But al for nought; he held forth ay the wyse 

That ye han herd Pandare er this devyse. 

Sk., 11, 1513-1547 



n. 1135-1169 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 153 

But certayn is, er Troilus him leyde, 
Deiphebus had him prayed over night 
To been a freend and helping to Criseyde. 
God woot that he it grauntede anon-right 
To been hir fulle freend with al his might. 
But swich a nede was to preye him thenne, 
As for to bidde a wood man for to renne. 

The morwen com, and neighen gan the tyme 
Of meel-tyde, that the faire quene Eleyne 
Shoop hir to been, an houre after the pryme, 
With Deiphebus, to whom she nolde feyne; 
But as his suster, hoomly, sooth to seyne, 
She com to diner in hir playn entente. 
But God and Pandare wiste al what this mente. 

Com eek Criseyde, al innocent of this, 
Antigone, hir suster Tarbe also. 
But flee we now prolixitee best is. 
For love of God, and lat us faste go 
Right to the effect with-oute tales mo. 
Why al this folk assembled in this place, 
And lat us of hir saluinges pace. 

Gret honour did hem Deiphebus certeyn, 
And fedde hem wel with al that mighte lyke. 
But evere-more, ''Alias!" was his refreyn, 
"My goode brother Troilus, the syke, 
Lyth yet" — and therwith-al he gan to syke. 
And after that he peyned him to glade 
Hem as he mighte, and chere good he made. 

Compleyned eek Eleyne of his syknesse 

So feithfully that pitee was to here, 

And every wight gan waxen for accesse 

A leche anoon, and seyde, "In this manere 

Men curen folk; this charme I wol yow lere." 

But ther sat oon, al list hir nought to teche, 

That thoughte, " Best coude I yet been his leche!" 

Sk., II, 1548-1582 



154 CHAUCER 11.1170-1204 

The tyme com fro diner for to ryse, 
And, as hem oughte, arisen everychoon, 
And gonne a while of this and that devyse. 
But Pandarus brak al this speche anoon 
And seyde to Deiphebus, "Wole ye goon, 
If it your wille be, as I yow preyde, 
To speke heer of the nedes of Criseyde?" 

Eleyne, which that by the hond hir held, 

Took first the tale, and seyde, ''Go we blyve!" 

And goodly on Criseyde she biheld. 

And seyde, ''loves lat him nevere thryve 

That dooth yow harm, and bringe him sone of lyve! 

And yeve me sorwe but he shal it rewe 

'If that I may and alle folk be trewe." 

"Telle thou thy neces cas," quod Deiphebus 

To Pandarus, "for thou canst best it telle." — 

"My lordes and my ladyes, it stant thus: 

What sholde I lenger," quod he, "do yow dwelle?" 

He rong hem out a proces lyk a belle 

Up-on hir fo, that highte Poliphete, 

So heynous that men mighte on it spete. 

Spak than Eleyne, and seyde, "Pandarus, ^ 

Woot ought my lord, my brother, this matere, 

I mene Ector? or woot it Troilus?" 

He seyde, "Ye, but wole ye now me here? 

Me thinketh this, sith Troilus is here 

It were good, if that ye wolde assente, 

She tolde hir-self him al this er she wente. 

"For he wole have the more hir grief at herte 

By-cause, lo, that she a lady is. 

And by your leve I wol but right in sterte 

And do you wite, and that anoon, y-wis. 

If that he slepe, or wole ought here of this." 

And in he lepte, and seyde him in his ere, 

"God have thy soule, y-brought have I thy bere!"^' 

Sk.,II, 1597-1617; 1625-1638 



11.1205-1239 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 155 

To smylen of this gan tho Troilus, 

And Pandarus with-oute rekeninge 

Oute wente anoon to Eleyne and Deiphebus, 

And seyde hem, "So ther be no taryinge, 

Ne more pres, he wol wel that ye bringe 

Criseyda, my lady, that is here; 

And as he may enduren, he wole here. 

"But wel ye woot the chaumbre is but lyte, 

And fewe folk may hghtly make it warm. 

Now loketh ye — for I wol have no wyte 

To bringe in prees that mighte doon him harm 

Or him disesen, for my bettre arm! — 

Wher it be bet she byde til eft-sones, 

Now loketh ye that knowen what to doon is. 

"I sey for me, best is, as I can knowe, 
That no wight in ne wente but ye tweye, 
But it were I; for I can in a throwe 
Reherce hir cas unlyk that she can seye; 
And after this she may him ones preye 
To ben good lord, in short, and take hir leve. 
This may not muchel of his ese him reve. 

"And eek, for she is straunge, he wol forbere 
His ese, which that him thar nought for yow. 
Eek other thing that toucheth not to here 
He wol me telle, I woot it wel right now, 
That secret is and for the tounes prow." 
And they, that no-thing knewe of this entente, 
With-oute more to Troilus in they wente. 

Eleyne in al hir goodly sof te wyse 
Gan him saluwe, and womanly to pleye. 
And seyde, " Y-wis, ye moste alweys aryse! 
Now fayre brother, beth al hool, I preye!" 
And gan hir arm right over his sholder leye, 
And him with al hir wit to recomforte. 
As she best coude, she gan him to disporte. 

Sk., II, 1639-1673 



156 CHAUCER ii. 1240-1274 

So after this quod she, "We yow biseke, 
Me dere brother, Deiphebus, and I, 
For love of God, and so doth Pandare eke, 
To been good lord and freend right hertely 
Un-to Criseyde, which that certeinly 
Receyveth wrong, as woot wel heer Pandare, 
That can hir cas wel bet than I declare." 

This Pandarus gan newe his tunge affyle. 
And al hir cas reherce, and that anoon. 
Whan it was seyd, sone after in a whyle. 
Quod Troilus, "As sone as I may goon, 
I wol right fayn with al my might ben oon. 
Have God my trouthe, hir cause to sustene." 
"Good thrift have ye," quod Eleyne the queue. 

Quod Pandarus, "And it your wille be 
That she may take hir leve er that she go?" 
"Or elles God for-bede," tho quod he, 
"If that she vouche sauf for to do so." 
And with that word quod Troilus, "Ye two, 
Deiphebus, and my suster leef and dere. 
To yow have I to speke of o matere, 

" To been avysed by your reed the bettre:" — 
And fond, as hap was, at his beddes heed 
The copie of a tretis and a lettre 
That Ector had him sent to axen reed. 
If swich a man was worthy to ben deed, 
Woot I nought who; but in a grisly wyse 
He preyede hem anoon on it avyse. 

Deiphebus gan this lettre to unfolde 
In ernest greet; so did Eleyne the quene. 
And roming outward faste it gan biholde. 
Downward a steyre in-to an herber grene. 
This ilke thing they redden hem bi-twene. 
And largely the mountaunce of an houre 
They gonne on it to reden and to poure. 

Sk., II, 1674-1708 



11.1275-1309 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 157 

Now lat hem rede, and turne we anoon 
To Pandarus, that gan ful faste prye 
That al was wel, and oute he gan to goon 
In-to the grete chambre and that in hye, 
And seyde, "God save al this company e! 
Com, nece myn; my lady quene Eleyne, 
Abydeth yow, and eek my lordes tweyne. 

"Rys, take with yow your nece Antigone, 
Or whom yow list, or no fors, hardily: 
The lasse prees, the bet; com forth with me. 
And loke that ye thonke humblely 
Hem alle three and, whan ye may goodly 
Your tyme y-see, taketh of hem your leve 
Lest we to longe his restes him bireve." 

Al innocent of Pandarus entente 

Quod tho Criseyde, ''Go we, uncle dere." 

And arm in arm inward with him she wente, 

Avysed wel hir wordes and hir chere. 

And Pandarus in ernestful manere 

Seyde, ''Alle folk, for Goddes love I preye, 

Stinteth right heer and softely yow pleye. 

" Avyseth yow what folk ben heer with-inne, 

And in what plyt oon is, God him amende! 

And inward thus ful softely biginne. 

Nece, I coniure and heighly yow defende. 

On his half which that sowle us alle sende, ^, ^ ,. . 

And in the vertu of corounes tweyne, ^' ^ 

Slee nought this man that hath for yow this pejme! 

"Fy on the devel! thenk which oon he is 
And in what plyt, he lyth. Com of anoon! 
Thenk al swich taried tyde but lost it nis! 
That wol ye bothe seyn whan ye ben oon. 
Secoundehch, ther yet devyneth noon 
Up-on yow two: com of now if ye conne! 
Whyl folk is blent, lo! al the tyme is wonne!" 

Sk., II. 1709-1743 



158 CHAUCER ii. 1310-1316. iii. 1-21 

But now to yow, ye lovers that ben here, 

Was Troilus nought in a cankedort, 

That lay and mighte whispring of hem here, 

And thoughte, ^'O Lord, right now renneth my sort 

Fully to dye or han anoon comfort!" 

And was the firste tyme he shulde hir preye 

Of love: O mighty God, what shal he seye? 

Explicit Secundus Liber. 



Book III 

Incipit Liber Tercius 

O blisful Hght, of which the hemes clere 
Adorneth al the thridde hevene faire! 
O sonnes leef, O loves doughter dere, 
Plesaunce of love, O goodly debonaire, 
In gentil hertes ay redy to repaire! 
O verray cause of hele and of gladnesse, 
1 .jA^- Y-heried be thy might and thy goodnesse! 

Ye in my naked herte sentement 

Inhelde, and do me shewe of thy swetnesse. 

Caliope, thy vols be now present. 

For now is nede: sestow not my destresse, 

How I mot telle anon-right the gladnesse 

Of Troilus, to Venus heryinge? 

To which gladnesse, who nede hath, God him bringe! 

Lay al this mene whyle Troilus 

Recording his lessoun in this manere: 

''Ma fey!" thoughte he, "thus wol I seye and thus; 

Thus wol I pleyne un-to my lady dere; 

That word is good, and this shal be my chere; 

This nil I not foryeten in no wyse." 

God leve him werken as he gan devyse. 

Sk.,II, 1751-1757; HI, 1-7; 43-56 



III. 22-56 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE ' 159 . 

And Lord! so that his herte gan to quappe, * 

Hering hir come, and shorte for to syke! 

And Pandarus, that ladde hir by the lappe, 

Com ner, and gan in at the curtin pyke, 

And seyde, ''God do bote on alle syke! 

See who is heer yow com en to visyte: 

Lo, heer is she that is your deeth to wyte!" 

Ther-with it semed as he wepte almost. 
"A ha!'" quod Troilus so rewfully, 
"Wher me be wo, O mighty God, thou wost! 
Who is al ther? I see nought trewely." 
"Sire," quod Criseyde, "it is Pandare and I." 
"Ye, swete herte? Alias, I may not ryse 
To knele, and do yow honour in som wyse." 

And dressede him upward, and she right tho 
Gan bothe here hondes sof te upon him leye. 
"O, for the love of God, do ye not so 
To me!" quod she; "Ey! what is this to seye? 
Sir, come am I to yow for causes tweye: 
First, yow to thonke, and of your lordship eke 
Continuaunce I wolde yow biseke." 

This Troilus, that herde his lady preye 
Of lordship him, wex neither quik ne deed, 
Ne mighte a word for shame to it seye, 
Al- though men sholde smyten of his heed. 
But Lord, so he wex sodeinliche reed! 
And sire, his lesson, that he wende conne 
To preyen hir, is thurgh his wit y-ronne. 

Cryseyde al this aspyede wel y-nough, 

For she was wys and lovede him nevere-the-lasse, 

Al nere he malapert or made it tough, 

Or was to bold to singe a fool a masse, ' 

But whan his shame gan somwhat to passe, 

His resons, as I may my rymes holde, 

I yow wol telle as techen bokes olde. 

Sk., Hi, 57-91 



160 CHAUCER iii. 57-91 

In chaunged vols, right for his verray drede, 
Which vois eek quook, and ther-to his manere 
Goodly abayst, and now his hewes rede, 
Now pale, un-to Criseyde, his lady dere, 
With look doun cast and humble yolden chere, 
Lo, the alderfirste word that him asterte 
Was twyes, "Mercy, mercy, swete herte!" 

And stinte a whyle, and whan he mighte out-bringe. 

The nexte word was, " God wot, for I have, 

As feythfully as I have had konninge, 

Ben youres, also God my sowle save! 

And shal til that I, woful wight, be grave. '^" 

And though I dar ne can un-to yow pleyne, 

Y-wis, I suffre nought the lasse peyne. 

"Thus muche as now, O wommanliche wyf, 
I may out-bringe, and if this yow displese, 
That shal I wreke upon myn owne lyf 
Right sone, I trowe, and doon your herte an ese, 
If with my deeth your herte I may apese. 
But sin that ye han herd me somwhat seye. 
Now recche I nevere how sone that I deye." 

Ther-with his manly sorwe to biholde . 

It mighte han maad an herte of stoon to rewe. 
And Pandare weep as he to watre wolde, 
And poked evere his nece newe and newe. 
And seyde, "Wo bigon ben hertes trewe! 
For love of God, make of this thing an ende, 
Or slee us bothe at ones er ye wende!" 

"I? what?^' quod she, "by God and by my trouthe, 

I noot nought what ye wilne that I seye." 

"I? what?" quod he, "that ye han on him routhe, 

For Goddes love, and doth him nought to deye." 

"Now thanne thus," quod she, "I wolde him preye 

To telle me the fyn of his entente. 

Yet wiste I nevere wel what that he mente." 

Sk., Ill, 92-126 



III. 92-126 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 161 

"What that I mene, swete herte dere?" 
Quod Troilus, ''O goodly fresshe free! 
That with the stremes of your eyen clere 
Ye wolde som-tyme freendly on me see, 
And thanne agreen that I may ben he, 
With-oute braunche of vyce in any wyse, 
In trouthe alwey to doon yow my servyse. 

"And I to ben your verray humble trewe, 

Secret, and in my paynes pacient, 

And evere-mo desire freshly newe 

To serven and been y-lyke diligent. 

And with good herte al hoolly your talent 

Receyven wel, how sore that me smerte, — 

Lo, this mene I, myn owene swete herte." 

Quod Pandarus, "Lo, heer an hard requeste, 

And resonable a lady for to werne! 

Now nece myn, by natal loves feste. 

Were I a god, ye sholde sterve as yerne, ^ ^ 

That heren wel this man wol no-thing yerne ' ' 

But your honour, and seen him almost sterve, 

And been so looth to suffren him yow serve.'' 

With that she gan hir eyen on him caste 
Fill esily and ful debonairly, 
Avysing hir, and hyed not to faste 
With nevere a word, but seyde him softely, 
"Myn honour sauf, I wol wel trewely. 
And in swich forme as he can now devyse 
Receyven him fully to my servyse, 

"Biseching him for Goddes love that he 
Wolde in honour of trouthe and gentilesse, 
As I wel mene, eek mene wel to me. 
And myn honour with wit and besinesse 
Ay kepe. And if I may don him gladnesse 
From hennes-forth, y-wis, I nil not feyne. 
Now beth al hool, no lenger ye ne pleyne. 

5k., Ill, 127-133; 141-168 ^'^^Uji^ 



162 CHAUCER 111.127-16I 

y 

/ "But nathelees, this warne I yow," quod she, 
"A kinges sone al-though ye be, y-wis. 
Ye shul na-more have soverainetee 
Of me in love than right in that cas is. 
Ne I nil forbere, if that ye doon a-mis, ;: 

To wrathen yow; and whyl that ye me serve, 
Cherycen yow right after ye deserve. 

''And shortly, dere herte and al my knight, 

Beth glad, and draweth yow to lustinesse. 

And I shal trewely with al my might 

Your bittre tornen al in-to swetnesse. 

If I be she that may yow do gladnesse. 

For every wo ye shal recovere a blisse." 

And him in armes took, and gan him kisse. ; 

Fil Pandarus on knees, and up his yen % 

To hevene threw, and held his hondes hye. 
"Immortal God! " quod he, " that mayst nought dyen, 
Cupide I mene, of this mayst glorifye. 
And Venus, thou mayst make melodye! 
With-outen bond, me semeth that in towne 
For this merveyle I here ech belle sowne. 

"But, ho! no more as now of this matere, 
For-why this folk wol comen up anoon 
That han the lettre red. Lo, I hem here. 
But I coniure thee, Criseyde, and oon 
And two, thou Troilus, whan thow mayst goon. 
That at myn hous ye been at my warninge; 
For I ful wel shal shape your cominge. 

"And eseth ther your hertes right y-nough; 

And lat see which of yow shal bere the belle ' \'] 

To speke of love a-right!" Ther- with he lough. 

"For ther have ye a layser for to telle." 

Quod Troilus, "How longe shal I dwelle 

Er this be doon? " Quod he, "Whan thou mayst ryse. 

This thing shal be right as I yow devyse." 

Sk., Ill, 169-203 



111,162-196 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 163 

With that Eleyne and also Deiphebus 

Tho com en upward, right at the steyres ende; 

And Lord! so than gan grone Troilus, 

His brother and his suster for to blende. 

Quod Pandarus, "It tyme is that we wende. 

Tak, nece myn, your leve at alle three, 

And lat hem speke, and cometh forth with me." 

She took hir leve at hem ful thriftily. 

As she wel coude, and they hir reverence 

Un-to the fulle diden hardely, 

And speken wonder wel in hir absence 

Of hir in preysing of hir excellence, 

Hir governaunce, hir wit, and hir manere 

Commendeden : it loye was to here. 

Now lat hir wende un-to hir owne place, 
And torne we to Troilus a-yein, 
That gan ful lightly of the lettre passe, 
That Deiphebus had in the gardin seyn. 
And of Eleyne and him he wolde fayn 
Delivered been, and seyde that him leste 
To slepe and after tales have reste. 

Eleyne him kiste and took hir leve blyve, 

Deiphebus eek, and hoom wente every wight. 

And Pandarus as faste as he may dryve 

To Troilus tho com as lyne right. 

And on a paillet al that glade night 

By Troilus he lay with mery chere 

To tale; and wel was hem they were y-fere. 

Whan every wight was voided but they two, 

And alle the dores were faste y-shette, 

To telle in short, with-oute wordes mo, 

This Pandarus with-outen any lette 

Up roos and on his beddes syde him sette 

And gan to speken in a sobre wyse 

To Troilus, as I shal yow devyse. 

Sk., Ill, 204-238 



164 CHAUCER iii, 197-231 

"Myn alderlevest lord and brother dere, 
God woot and thou that it sat me ful sore 
When I thee saw so languisshing to-yere 
For love of which thy wo wex alwey more; 
That I with al my might and al my lore 
Have evere sithen doon my bisinesse 
To bringe thee to loye out of distresse; 

"And have it brought to swich plyt as thou wost, 

So that thorugh me thow stondest now in weye 

To fare wel. I seye it for no bost, 

And wostow why? For shame it is to seye, 

For thee have I bigonne a gamen pleye 

Which that I nevere doon shal eft for other 

Al-though he were a thousand fold my brother. 

''That is to seye, for thee am I bicomen, 
Bitwixen game and ernest, swich a mene 
As maken wommen un-to men to comen: 
Al sey I nought, thou wost wel what I mene. 
For thee have I my nece, of vyces clene, 
So fully maad thy gentilesse triste 
That al shal been right as thy-selve liste. 

"But God, that al wot, take I to witnesse 

That nevere I this for coveityse wroughte, 

But only for to abregge that distresse. 

For which wel nygh thou deydest, as me thoughte. 

But gode brother, do now as thee oughte, 

For Goddes love, and keep hir out of blame, 

Sin thou art wys, and save alwey hir name. 

"Wherfore, er I wol ferther goon a pas, 
Yet eft I thee biseche and fully seye 
That privetee go with us in this cas, 
That is to seye, that thou us nevere wreye. 
And be nought wrooth though I thee of te preye 
To holden secree swich an heigh matere; 
For skilful is, thow wost wel, my preyere. 

Sk., Ill, 239-266; 281-287 






( 

{ 

I 



111,232-266 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 165 

''For wel I woot thou menest wel, parde: 

Therfore I dar this fully undertake. 

Thou wost eek what thy lady graunted thee, 

And day is set the chartres up to make. 

Have now good night, I may no lenger wake; 

And bid for me sin thou art now in bhsse 

That God me sende deeth or sone Hsse." l: j^ 

Who mighte telle half the loye or feste 
Which that the sowle of Troilus tho felte, 
Hering theffect of Pandarus biheste? 
His olde wo that made his herte swelte 
Gan tho for loye wasten and to-melte; 
And al the richesse of his sykes sore 
At ones fledde, he felte of hem no more. 

And gan his look on Pandarus up caste 

Ful sobrely and f rendly for to see, 

And seyde, "Freend, in Aperil the laste, 

As wel thou wost if it remembre thee. 

How neigh the deeth for wo thou founde me; 

And how thou didest al thy bisinesse 

To knowe of me the cause of my distresse. 

"Thou wost how longe I it for-bar to seye 
To thee that art the man that I best triste; 
And peril was it noon to thee by-wreye, 
That wiste I wel. But telle me, if thee liste, 
Sith I so looth was that thy-self it wiste 
How dorste I mo tellen of this matere, 
That quake now and no wight may us here? 

"But natheles by that God I thee swere 
That as him list may al this world governe, 
And, if I lye, Achilles with his spere 
Myn herte cleve, al were my lyf eterne 
As I am mortal, if I late or yerne 
Wolde it biwreye, or dorste, or sholde conne. 
For al the good that God made under sonne. 

Sk.. m, 337-350; 358-378 



166 CHAUCER iii, 257-301 

"But heer with al myn herte I thee biseche 
That nevere in me thou deme swich folye 
As I shal seyn: me thoughte by thy speche 
That this, which thou me dost for companye, 
I sholde wene it were a bauderye. 
I am nought wood, al-if I lewed be; 
It is not so, that woot I wel, pardee! 

"And that thou knowe I thenke nought ne wene 

That this servyse a shame be or lape, 

I have my faire suster Polixene, 

Cassandre, Eleyne, or any of the frape. 

Be she nevere so faire or wel y-shape. 

Telle me which thou wilt of everichone 

To han for thyn, and lat me thanne allone." 

Thus held him ech with other wel apayed 
That al the world ne mighte it bet amende. 
And on the morwe whan they were arayed, 
Ech to his owene nedes gan entende. 
But Troilus, though as the fyr he brende 
For sharp desyr of hope and of plesaunce, 
He not for-gat his gode governaunce. 

But certeyn is, to purpos for to go, 

That in this whyle, as writen is in geste, 

He say his lady som-tyme; and also 

She with him spak whan that she dorste or leste. 

And by hir bothe avys as was the beste 

Apoynteden ful warly in this nede. 

So as they dorste, how they wolde procede. 

But it was spoken in so short a wyse, 
In swich awayt alwey and in swich fere, 
Lest any wyght divynen or devyse 
Wolde of hem two, or to it leye an ere, 
That al this world so leef to hem ne were 
As that Cupido wolde hem grace sende 
To maken of hir speche aright an ende. 

Sk., Ill, 393-399; 407-413; 421-427; 449-462 



i 



\ 



111,302-336 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 167 

And shortly of this proces for to pace, 
So wel his werk and wordes he bisette 
That he so ful stood in his lady grace 
That twenty thousand tymes or she lette 
She thonked God she evere with him mette; 
So coude he him governe in swich servyse 
That al the world ne mighte it bet devyse. 

But now, paraunter, som man wayten wolde 

That every word or sonde or look or chere 

Of Troilus that I rehersen sholde, 

In al this whyle, un-to his lady dere: 

I trowe it were a long thing for to here; 

Or of what wight that stant in swich disioynte, 

His wordes alle, or every look, to poynte. 

But to the grete effect: than sey I thus, 
That stonding in concord and in quiete 
Thise ilke two, Criseyde and Troilus, 
As I have told, and in this tyme swete, 
Save only often mighte they not mete, 
Ne layser have hir speches to fulfelle. 
That it befel right as I shal yow telle, 

That Pandarus, that evere did his might 
Right for the fyn that I shal speke of here, 
As for to bringe to his hous som night 
His faire nece and Troilus y-fere, 
Wher-as at leyser al this heigh matere 
Touching hir love were at the fulle up-bounde, 
Had out of doute a tyme to it founde. 

And Troilus, that al this purveyaunce 
Knew at the fulle, and waytede on it ay. 
Had heer-up-on eek maad gret ordenaunce 
I And founde his cause and ther-to his aray. 

If that he were missed night or day 
Ther-whyl he was aboute this servyse. 
That he was goon to doon his sacrifyse. 

k.,ni, 470-476: 491-497; 505-518; 533-539 



168 CHAUCER iii. 337-371 

And moste at swich a temple alone wake, 

Answered of Appollo for to be; 

And first to seen the holy laurer quake 

Er that Apollo spak out of the tree 

To telle him next whan Grekes sholden flee, 

And forthy lette him no man, God forbede, 

But preye Apollo helpen in this nede. 

Now is ther litel more for to done, 
But Pandare up, and shortly for to seyne, 
Right sone upon the chaunging of the mone, 
Whan lightles is the world a night or tweyne 
And that the welken shoop him for to reyne, 
He streight a-morwe un-to his nece wente. 
Ye han wel herd the fyn of his entente. 

Whan he was come, he gan anoon to pleye 
As he was wont, and of him-self to lape. 
And fynally, he swor and gan hir seye. 
By this and that, she sholde him not escape, 
Ne lenger doon him after hir to gape. 
But certeynly she moste, by hir leve, 
Come soupen in his hous with him at eve. 

At which she lough, and gan hir faste excuse, 
And seyde, "It rayneth. Lo, how sholde I goon?" 
*'Lat be," quod he, ''ne stond not thus to muse. 
This moot be doon, ye shal be ther anoon." 
So at the laste her-of they felle at oon; 
Or elles, softe he swor hir in hir ere, 
He nolde nevere come ther she were. 

Sone after this to him she gan to rowne. 

And askede him if Troilus were there. 

He swor hir, "Nay, for he was out of towne," 

And seyde, "Nece, I pose that he were, 

Yow thurfte nevere have the more fere. 

For rather than men mighte him ther aspye, | 

Me were lever a thousand fold to dye." 

Sk,m, 540-574 



111,372-406 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 169 

Nought list myn auctor fully to declare 

What that she thoughte whan he seyde so, 

That Troilus was out of towne y-fare, % ^"^^ 

As if he seyde ther-of sooth or no; < Iaji'^I 

But that with-oute awayt with him to go ''*-*^^ M^ 

She graunted him, sith he hir that bisoughte, y^jid^ry^f^ 

And as his nece obeyed as hir oughte. 

But nathelees, yet gan she him biseche, 

Al- though with him to goon it was no fere,jy"^- j 

For to be war of goosish peples speche, 

That dremen thinges which that nevere were, 

And wel avyse him whom he broughte there. 

And seyde him, ''Eem, sin I mot on yow triste, 

Loke al be wel, and do now as yow liste." 

He swor hir, "Yis, by stokkes and by stones, 
And by the goddes that in hevene dwelle, 
Or elles were him lever, soule and bones, 
With Pluto king as depe been in helle 
As Tantalus!" What sholde I more telle? 
Whan al was wel he roos and tak his leve, 
And she to souper com whan it was eve, 

With a certayn of hir owene men, 

And with hir faire nece Antigone, 

And othere of hir wommen, nyne or ten. 

But who was glad now, who as trowe ye /i./. W 

But Troilus, that stood and rnig^hte it see ^*'^^ 

Thurgh-oute a litel windowe in a stewe 

Ther he bishet sin midnight was in mewe, 'rL^(' 

Unwist of every wight but of Pandare? 

But to the poynt : Now whan she was y-come 

With alle loye and alle frendes fare, 

Hir eem anoon in armes hath hir nome,^:'^''-^'^ 

And after to the souper, alle and some, 

Wlian tyme was, ful softe they hem sette. 

God wot, ther was no deyntee for to fette. 

Sk., Ill, 575-609 j>a.^iM/-^ 



170 



CHAUCER 



III, 407-441 




And after souper gonnen they to ryse, 
At ese wel with hertes fresshe and glade, 
And wel was him that coude best devyse 
To lyken hir, or that hir laughen made. 
He song; she pleyde; he tolde tale of Wade. 
But at the laste, as every thing hath ende, 
She took hir leve, and nedes wolde wende. 

But O Fortune, executrice of wierdes, '-* 
itOy^'' O influences of thise"hevenes hye! 



^ 



Soth is that under God ye ben our hierdes, 
Though to us bestes been the causes wrye. 
This mene I now, for she gan hoomward hye, 
But execut was al bisyde hir leve 
At the goddes wille; for which she moste bleve. 

The bente mone with hir homes pale, 
Saturne and love in Cancro ioyned were, 
That swich a rayn from hevene gan avale 
That every maner womman that was there 
Had of that smoky reyn a verray fere; 
At which Pandar^ tho lough and seyde thenne, 
"Now were it tyme a lady to go henne! 

*' But goode nece, if I mighte evere plese 
Yow any- thing, than prey I yow," quod he, 
*'To doon myn herte as now so greet an ese 
As for to dwelle heer al this night with me, 
For-why this is your owene hous, pardee. 
For by my trouthe I sey it nought a-game, 
To wende as now it were to me a shame." 

Griseyde, which that coude as muche good 

As half a world, took hede of his preyere. 

And sin it ron and al was on a flood, 

She thoughte, "As good chep may I dwellen here. 

And graunte it gladly with a freendes chere, 

And have a thank, as grucche and than abyde. 

For hoom to goon it may nought wel bityde." 

Sk., Ill, 610-644 



111.442-476 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 171 

''I wol," quod she, ^'myn uncle leef and dere, — 

Sin that yow Hst, it skil is to be so. 

I am right glad with yow to dwellen here; 

I seyde but agame I wolde go." 

''Y-wis, graunt mercy, nece!" quod he tho; 

''Were it a game or no, soth for to telle, 

Now am I glad, sin that yow list to dwelle." 

Thus al is wel; but tho bigan aright 
The newe loye and al the feste agayn. 
But Pandarus, if goodly had he might, 
He wolde han hyed hir to bedde fayn, 
And seyde, ''Lord, this is an huge rayn! 
This were a weder for to slepen inne. 
And that I rede us sone to biginne. 

"And nece, woot ye wher I wol yow leye, 

For that we shul not liggen fer asonder, 
And for ye neither shullen, dar I seye, 
Heren noise of reynes nor of thondre? 
By God, right in my lyte closet yonder. 
And I wol in that outer hous allone 
Be wardeyn of your wommen everichone. 

"And in this middel chaumbre that ye see 
Shul youre wommen slepen wel and softe; 
And ther I seyde shal 3^our-selve be. 
And if ye liggen wel to-night com ofte 
And careth not what weder is on-lofte. 
The wyn anon, and whan so that yow leste. 
So go we slepe: I trowe it be the beste." 

Tho Pandarus, hir eem, right as him oughte, 
With women swiche as were hir most aboute, 
Ful glad un-to hir beddes syde hir broughte 
And took his leve and gan ful lowe loute 
And seyde, "Heer at this closet-dore with-oute, 
Right over-thwart, your wommen liggen alle. 
That whom yow liste of hem ye may heer calle.'' 

Sk., Ill, 645-672: 680-686 



172 CHAUCER in. 477-511 

So whan that she was in the closet leyd, 

And alle hir wommen forth by ordenaunce 

A-bedde weren ther as I have seyd, 

Ther was no more to skippen nor to traunce, 

But boden go to bedde, with mischaunce! 

If any wight was stering any-where, 

And late hem slepe that a-bedde were. 

But Pandarus, that wel coude ech a del 
The olde daunce, and every poynt ther-inne, 
Whan that he sey that alle thing was wel, 
He thoughte he wolde up-on his werk biginne, 
And gan the stewe-dore al softe un-pinne, 
And stille as stoon with-outen lenger lette, 
By Troilus a-doun right he him sette. 

And shortly to the poynt right for to gon, 
Of al this werk he tolde him word and ende, 
And seyde, ''Make thee redy right anon, 
For thou shalt in- to hevene blisse wende." 
"Now blisful Venus, thou me grace sende," 
Quod Troilus, "for nevere yet no nede 
Had I ei^ now, ne halvendel thedrede." 

Quod Pandarus, "Thou wrecched mouses herte, 
Art thou agast so that she wol thee byte? 
Why, don this furred cloke up-on thy sherte, 
And folowe me, for I wol han the wyte. 
But byd, and lat me go bifore a lyte." 
And with that word he gan un-do a trappe, 
And Troilus he broughte in by the lappe. 

The Sterne wind so loude gan to route 
That no wight other noyse mighte here; 
And they that layen at the dore with-oute 
Ful sykerly they slepten alle y-fere. 
And Pandarus with a ful sobre chere 
Goth to the dore anon with-outen lette 
Ther-as they laye, and softely it shette. 

Sk., Ill, 687-707; 736-74^ 



111,512-546 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 173 

And as he com ayeinward prively, 

His nece awook and asked, "Who goth there?" 

"My dere nece," quod he, "it am I. 

Ne wondreth not ne have of it no fere." 

And ner he com, and seyde hir in hir ere, 

"No word, for love of God, I yow biseche! 

Lat no wight ryse and heren of our speche!" 

"What! which wey be ye comen, bendiste?" 
Quod she, "and how thus unwist of hem alle?" 
"Heer at this secre trappe-dore," quod he. 
Quod tho Criseyde, "Lat me som wight calle." 
"Ey! God forbede that it sholde falle," 
Quod Pandarus, "that ye swich foly wroughte! 
They mighte deme thing they nevere er thoughte! 

"Now nece myn, ye shul wel understonde," 
Quod he, "so as ye wommen demen alle, 
That for to holde in love a man in honde 
And him hir 'leef ' and 'dere herte' calle, 
And maken him an howve above a calle, 
I mene as love an other in this whyle, 
She doth hir-self a shame and him a gyle. 

"Now wherby that I telle yow al this? 
Ye woot your-self, as wel as any wight. 
How that your love al fully graunted is 
To Troilus, the worthieste knight 
Oon of this world, and ther-to trouthe plyght 
That, but it were on him along, ye nolde 
Him nevere falsen whyl ye liven sholde. 

"Now stant it thus, that sith I fro yow wente, 

This Troilus, right platly for to seyn. 

Is thurgh a goter by a prive wente 

In- to my chaumbre come in al this reyn, 

Unwist of every maner wight, certeyn. 

Save of my-self, as wisly have I loye. 

And by that feith I shal Priam of Troye! 

Sk., Ill, 750-763; 771-791 "^OtAAj-^^JL 

,:^.^A^._... __ 



174 CHAUCER iii, 547-S81 

"And he is come in swich peyne and distresse 
That, but he be al fully wood by this, 
He sodeynly mot falle in-to wodnesse, 
But-if God helpe. And cause why this is: 
. He seyth him told is of a freend of his 
J; How that ye sholde love oon that hatte Horaste, 
For sorwe of which this night shal been his laste." 






Criseyde, which that al this wonder herde, 

Gan sodeynly aboute hir herte colde. 

And with a syk she sorwfully answerde, 

"Alias! I wende, who-so tales tolde. 

My dere herte wolde me not holde 

So lightly fals! Alias! conceytes wronge. 

What harm they doon, for now live I to longe! 

i -l^j^ (^"Horaste? Alias! and falsen Troilus? 

/f^^^OAir ) ^ knowe him not, God helpe me so," quod she; 

Jh^5^^^^ "S "Alias! what wikked spirit tolde him thus? 

CV"^^ r ^ j Now certes, eem, to-morwe, and I him see, 

^ P"^^'^'^ I I shal ther-of as ful excusen me 

CtX^ I As evere dide womman, if him lyke." 

xAnd with that word she gan ful sore syke. 

s Quod Pandarus, "Thus fallen is this cas/' 

" Why, uncle myn," quod she, "who tolde him this? 

Why doth my dere herte thus, alias?" 

"Ye woot, ye nece myn," quod he, "what is. 

I hope al shal be wel that is amis. 

For ye may quenche al this if that yow leste, 

And doth right so, for I holde it the beste." 

"So shal I do to-morwe, y-wis," quod she, 
"And God to-forn, so that it shal suffyse." 
"To-morwe? Alias, that were a fayr," quod he, 
"Nay, nay, it may not stonden in this Avyse. 
For, nece myn, thus wryten clerkes wyse. 
That peril is with drecching in y-drawe: 
Nay, swich abodes been nought worth an hawe. 

Sk , III, 792-812; 841-854 



III. 582-616 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 175 

''And nece myn, ne take it not a-greef, — 
If that ye suffre him al night in this wo, 
God helpe me so, ye had him nevere leef, 
That dar I seyn, now ther is but we two. 
But wel I woot that ye wol not do so: 
Ye been to wys to do so gret folye 
To putte his lyf al night in lupartye." 

" Had I him nevere leef? By God, I wene 

Ye hadde nevere thing so leef,^' quod she. 

"Now by my thrift," quod he, "that shal be sene. 

For sin ye make this ensample of me, 

If I al night wolde him in sorwe see 

For al the tresour in the toun of Troye, 

I bidde God I nevere mote have loye!" 

Quod tho Criseyde, "Wole ye doon o thing, 
And ye therwith shal stinte al his disese? 
Have heer,' and bereth him this blewe ring; 
For ther is no-thing mighte him bettre plese 
Save I my-self , ne more his herte apese. 
And sey my dere herte that his sorwe 
Is causeles, that shal be seen to-morwe." 

"A ring?" quod he, "ye, hasel-wodes shaken! 

Ye, nece myn, that ring moste han a stoon 

That mighte dede men alyve maken. 

And swich a ring trowe I that ye have noon. 

Discrecioun out of your heed is goon: 

That fele I now," quod he, "and that is routhe. 

tyme y-lost, wel maystow cursen slouthe!" 

Criseyde answerde, " As wisly God at reste 

My sowle bringe as me is for him wo ! 

And eem, y-wis, fayn wolde I doon the beste 

If that I hadde grace to do so. 

But whether that ye dwelle or for him go, 

1 am til God me bettre minde sende 

At Dulcarnon, right at my wittes ende." 

Sk., Ill, 862-875; 883-896; 925-931 



176 CHAUCER iii, 617-651 

Quod Pandarus, "Ye, nece, wol ye here? 
Dulcarnon called is 'fleming of wrecches:' 
It semeth hard, for wrecches wol not lere 
For verray slouthe or othere wilful tecches. 
This seyd by hem that be not worth two fecches; 
But ye ben wys, and that we han on honde 
Nis neither hard, ne skilful to withstonde." 

"Than, eem," quod she, ''doth her-of as yow list. 

But er he come I wil up first aryse; 

And for the love of God, sin al my trist 

Is on yow two and ye ben bothe wyse, 

So wircheth now in so discreet a ^vyse 

That I honour may have and he plesaunce. 

For I am heer al in your governaunce." 

"That is wel seyd," quod he, "my nece dere, 
Ther good thrift on that wyse gentil herte! 
But liggeth stille, and taketh him right here. 
It nedeth not no ferther for him sterte; 
And ech of yow ese otheres sorwes smerte 
For love of God! And Venus, I thee herie, 
For son^ hope I we shuUe ben alle merie!" 

This Troilus ful sone on knees him sette 
Ful sob rely, right by hir beddes heed. 
And in his beste wyse his lady grette ; 
But Lord, so she wex sodeynliche reed! 
Ne though men sholden smyten of hir heed. 
She coude nought a word a-right out-bringe 
So sodeynly for his sodeyn cominge. 

But Pandarus, that so wel coude f ele 

In every thing, to pleye anoon bigan. 

And seyde, "Nece, see how this lord can knele! 

Now for your trouthe, seeth this gentil man!" 

And with that word he for a quisshen ran. 

And seyde, "Kneleth now whyl that yow leste, 

Ther God your hertes bringe sone at reste!" 

Sk., Ill, 932-966 



\ 



III. 652-686 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 177 

Can I not seyn, for she bad him not ryse, 

If sorwe it putte out of hir remembraunce, 

Or elles if she toke it in the wyse 

Of duetee, as for his observaunce; 

But wel finde I she did him this plesaunce 

That she him kiste, al- though she syked sore; 

And bad him sitte a-doun with-outen more. 

Criseyde, that was Troilus lady right, 
And clere stood on a ground of sikernesse, 
Al thoughte she, hir servaunt and hir knight 
Ne sholde of right non untrouthe in hir gesse, 
Yet nathelees, considered his distresse, 
And that love is in cause of swich folye, 
Thus to him spak she of his lalousye: 

"Lo, herte myn, as wolde the excellence 
Of love, ayeins the which that no man may, 
Ne oughte eek goodly maken resistence, 
And eek bycause I felte wel and say 
Your grete trouthe and servyse every day, 
And that your herte al myn was, sooth to seyne, 
This droof me for to rewe up-on your peyne; 

"And your goodnesse have I founde alwey yit, 
Of which, my dere herte and al my knight, 
I thonke it yow as fer as I have wit, 
Al can I nought as muche as it were right. 
And I, emforth my conning and my might, 
Have and ay shal, how sore that me smerte, 
Ben to yow trewe and hool with al myn herte!" 

With that a fewe brighte teres newe 

Out of hir eyen fille, and thus she seyde: 

"Now God, thou wost, in thought ne dede untrewe 

To Troilus was nevere yet Criseyde!" 

With that hir heed doun in the bed she leyde 

And with the shete it wreigh, and syghed sore. 

And held hir pees: not o word spak she more. 

Sk.,III, 967-973; 981-1001; 1051-1057 



178 CHAUCER iii. 687-721 

This Troilus, whan he hir wordes herde, 

Have ye no care, him hste not to slepe; 

For it thoughte him no strokes of a yerde 

To here or seen Criseyde his lady wepe. 

But wel he felte aboute his herte crepe, 

For every tere which that Criseyde asterte, 

The crampe of deeth to streyne him by the herte. 

And in his minde he gan the tyme acurse 
That he cam there, and that he was born; 
For now is wikke y-turned in-to worse, 
And al that labour he hath doon biforn 
He wende it lost, he thoughte he nas but lorn. 
"O Pandarus," thoughte he, "alias! thy wyle 
Serveth of nought, so welawey the whyle!" 

And therwithal he heng a-doun the heed, 

And fil on knees, and sorwfully he sighte. 

What mighte he seyn? He felte he nas but deed; 

For wrooth was she that shulde his sorwes lighte. 

But nathelees, whan that he speken mighte, 

Than seyde he thus: " God woot that of this game. 

Whan al is wist, than am I not to blame!" 

Ther-with the sorwe so his herte shette 
That from his eyen fil ther not a tere. 
And every spirit his vigour in-knette, 
So they astoned and oppressed were. 
The feling of his sorwe or of his fere 
Or of ought elles fled was out of towne. 
And doun he fel al sodeynly a-swowne. 

Therwith his pous and pawmes of his hondes 
They gan to frote, and wete his temples tweyne; 
And, to deliveren him from bittre bondes. 
She ofte him kiste. And shortly for to seyne. 
Him to revoken she did al hir peyne. 
And at the laste he gan his breeth to drawe. 
And of his swough sone after that adawe, 

Sk., Ill, 1065-1092; 1114-1120 



III. 722-756 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 179 

And gan bet minde and reson to him take, 
But wonder sore he was abayst, y-wis. 
And with a syk, whan he gan bet a-wake, 
He seyde, "O mercy God, what thing is this?" 
''Why do ye with your-selven thus amis?" 
Quod tho Criseyde, ''is this a mannes game? 
What Troilus! wol ye do thus, for shame?" 

And therwith-al hir arm over him she leyde, 
And al foryaf, and ofte tyme him keste. 
He thonked hir, and to hir spak, and seyde 
As fil to purpos for his herte reste. 
And she to that answerde him as hir leste, 
And with hir goodly wordes him disporte 
She gan, and ofte his sorwes to comforte. 

Quod Pandarus, "For ought I can espyen, 
This Hght nor I ne serven heer of nought; 
Light is not good for syke folkes yen. 
But for the love of God, sin ye be brought 
In thus good plyt, lat now no hevy thought 
Ben hanging in the hertes of yow tweye:" 
And bar the candel to the chimeneye. 

Sone after this, though it no nede were. 
Whan she swiche othes as hir list devyse 
Had of him take, hir thoughte tho no fere 
Ne cause eek non to bidde him thennes ryse. 
Yet lesse thing than othes may suffyse 
In many a cas; for every wight, I gesse, 
That loveth wel meneth but gentilesse. 

But in effect she wolde wite anoon 

Of what man and eek wher and also why 

He lelous was, sin ther was cause noon; 

And eek the signe that he took it by 

She bad him that to telle hir bisily 

Or elles, certeyn, she bar him on honde 

That this was doon of malice hir to f onde. 

Sk.. m, 1121-1155 



180 ^^ CHAUCER iii. 757-791 

With-outen more, shortly for to seyne, 
He moste obeye un-to his lady heste; 
And for the lasse harm he moste feyne 
He seyde hir whan she was at swich a feste 
She mighte on him han loked at the leste: 
Not I not what, al dere y-nough a risshe, 
As he that nedes moste a cause fisshe. 

And she answerde, "Swete, al were it so, 
What harm was that sin I non yvel mene? 
For by that God that bough te us bothe two 
In alle thing is myn entente clene. 
Swiche arguments ne been not worth a bene; 
Wol ye the childish lalous contrefete? 
Now were it worthy that ye were y-bete." 

Tho Troilus gan sorwfully to syke 

Lest she be wrooth, him thoughte his herte deyde; 

And seyde, "Alias! upon my sorwes syke 

Have mercy, swete herte myn, Criseyde! 

And if that in tho wordes that I seyde 

Be any wrong, I wol no more trespace. 

Do what yow list, I am al in your grace." 

And she answerde, "Of gilt misericorde! 

That is to seyn that I foryeve al this. 

And evere-more on this night yow recorde. 

And beth wel war ye do no more amis." 

"Nay, dere herte myn," quod he, "y-wis." 

"And now," quod she, "that I have do yow smerte, 

Foryeve it me, myn owne swete herte." 

This Troilus with blisse of that supprysed 

Putte al in Goddes hond, as he that mente 

No- thing but wel; and sodeynly avysed 

He hir in armes faste to him hente. 

And Pandarus with a full good entente 

Leyde him to slepe, and seyde, "If ye ben wyse, 

Swowneth not now lest more folk aryse." 

Sk., Ill, 1156-1190 



J 



III. 792-826 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 181 

This Troilus in armes gan hir streyne, 
And seyde, "O swete, as evere mote I goon, 
Now be ye caught, now is ther but we tweyne: 
Now yeldeth yow, for other bote is noon!" 
To that Criseyde answerde thus anoon, 
"Ne had I er now, my swete herte dere, 
Ben yolde, y-wis, I were now not here!" 



O! sooth is seyd that heled for to be, 

As of a fevre or other gret syknesse, 

Men moste drinke, as men may often see, 

Ful bittre drinke; and for to han gladnesse 

Men drinken often peyne and greet distresse: 

I mene it heer, as for this aventure, 

That thourgh a peyne hath founden al his cure. 

O blisful night, of hem so longe y-sought. 
How bhthe un-to hem bothe two thou were! 
Why ne had I swich on with my soule y-bought, 
Ye, or the leeste loye that was there? 
Awey, thou foule Daunger and thou Fere, 
And lat hem in this hevene bhsse dwelle, 
That is so heygh that al ne can I telle! 

Thise ilke two that ben in armes laft. 

So looth to hem a-sonder goon it were 

That ech from other wende been biraft, 

Or elles, lo, this was hir moste fere. 

That al this thing but nyce dremes were: 

For which ful ofte ech of hem seyde, "O swete, 

Clippe ich yow thus, or elles I it mete?" 

But whan the cok, comune astrologer, 

Gan on his brest to bete and after crowe, 

And Lucifer, the dayes messager, 

Gan for to ryse and oute hir hemes throwe; 

And estward roos, to him that coude it knowe, 

Fortuna maior, than anoon Criseyde 

With herte sore to Troilus thus seyde: — 

Sk.,III, 1205-1218; 1317-1323; 1338-1344; 1415-1421 



182 CHAUCER 111.827-861 

"Myn hertes lyf, my trist, and my plesaunce, 

That I was born, alias! what me is wo 

That day of us mot make desseveraunce! 

For tyme it is to ryse and hennes go, 

Or elles I am lost for everemo! 

O night, alias! why niltow over us hove 

As longe as whanne Almena lay by love? 

"Thou dost, alias! to shortly thyn offyce. 
Thou rakel night, ther God, maker of kinde, 
Thee for thyn haste and thyn unkinde vyce 
So f aste ay to our hemi-spere binde 
That nevere-more under the ground thou winde! 
For now, for thou so hyest out of Troye, 
Have I forgon thus hastily my loye!" 

This Troilus, that with tho wordes felte, 

As thoughte him tho, for pietous distresse 

The blody teres from his herte melte, 

As he that nevere yet swich hevinesse 

Assayed had out of so greet gladnesse, 

Gan therwith-al Criseyde his lady dere 

In armes streyne, and seyde in this manere: — 

"O cruel day, accusour of the loye 

That night and love han stole and faste y-wryen, 

A-cursed be thy coming in-to Troye, 

For every bore hath oon of thy bright yen! 

Envyous day, what list thee so to spyen? 

What hastow lost? Why sekestow this place, 

Ther God thy lyght so quenche, for his grace? 

''Alias! what han thise loveres thee agilt, 
Dispitous day? Thyn be the pyne of helle! 
For many a lover hastow slayn and wilt; 
Thy pouring in wol no-wher lete hem dwelle. 
What proferestow thy light heer for to selle? 
Go selle it hem that smale seles graven: 
We wol thee nought, us nedeth no day haven." 

Sk., m, 1422-1428; 1436-1463 



\( 



I 



111,862-896 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 183 

Therwith ful sore he sighte, and thus he seyde, 

" My lady right, and of my wele or wo 

The welle and rote, O goodly myn, Criseyde, 

And shal I ryse, alias! and shal I go? 

Now fele I that myn herte moot a- two! 

For how sholde I my lyf an houre save 

Sin that with yow is al the lyf I have? 

'' But nathelees, myn owene lady bright, 

Yit were it so that I wiste outrely 

That I, your humble servaunt and your knight, 

Were in your herte set so fermely 

As ye in myn, the which thing trewely 

Me lever were than thise worldes tweyne, 

Yet sholde I bet enduren al my peyne." 

To that Criseyde answerde right anoon, 
And with a syk she seyde, "O herte dere, 
The game, y-wis, so ferforth now is goon 
That first shal Phebus falle fro his spere, 
And every egle been the dowves fere, 
And every roche out of his place sterte, 
Er Troilus out of Criseydes herte! 

''Ye be so depe in- with myn herte grave 

That, though I wolde it tume out of my thought, 

As wisly verray God my soule save. 

To dyen in the peyne, I coude nought! 

And for the love of God that hath us wrought, 

Lat in your brayn non other fantasye 

So crepe that it cause me to dye! 

I "And that ye me wolde han faste in minde 

As I have yow, that wolde I yow bi-seche; 
And if I wiste soothly that to finde, 
God mighte not a poynt my loyes eche. 
But, herte myn, with-oute more speche, 
Beth to me trewe, or elles were it routhe; 
For I am thyn, by God and by my trouthe!" ■ 

,111, 1471-1477: 1485-1512 



134 CHAUCER HI. 897-931 

Agayns his wille, sin it mot nedes be, 

This Troilus up roos, and faste him cledde, 

And in his armes took his lady free 

An hundred tyme, and on his wey him spedde, 

And with swiche wordes as his herte bledde, 

He seyde, ''Farewel, my dere herte swete, 

Ther God us graunte sounde and sone to mete!" 

To which no word for sorwe she answerde, 
So sore gan his parting hir distreyne; 
And Troilus un-to his paleys ferde 
As woo bigon as she was, sooth to seyne. 
So hard him wrong of sharp desyr the peyne 
For to ben eft ther he was in plesaunce 
That it may nevere out of his remembraunce. 

Retorned to his real palais, sone 

He softe in-to his bed gan for to slinke, 

To slepe longe as he was wont to done. 

But al for nought; he may wel ligge and winke, 

But sleep ne may ther in his herte sinke, 

Thenking how she, for whom desyr him brende, 

A thousand-fold was worth more than he wende. 

Criseyde also, right in the same wyse. 

Of Troilus gan in hir herte shette 

His worthinesse, his lust, his dedes wyse, 

His gentilesse, and how she with him mette, 

Thonking Love he so wel hir bisette, 

Desyring eft to have hir herte dere 

In swich a plyt she dorste make him chere. 

Pandare, a-morwe, which that comen was 
Un-to his nece, and gan hir fayre grete, 
Seyde, "Al this night so reyned it, alias! 
That al my drede is that ye, nece swete, 
Han litel layser had to slepe and mete. 
Al night," quod he, "hath reyn so do me wake 
That som of us, I trowe, hir hedes ake." 

Sk., Ill, 1520-1540; 1548-1561 



' 



III. 932-966 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 



a^-rJj^ 



And ner he com and seyde, "How stont it now 
This mery morwe, nece, — how can ye fare?" 
Criseyde answerde, ''Nevere the bet for yow, 
Fox that ye been, God yeve your herte care! 
God helpe me so, ye caused al this fare, 
Trowe I," quod she, "for alle your wordes whyte. 
O! who-so seeth yow knoweth yow ful lyte!" 

With that she gan hir face for to wrye 
With the shete, and wex for shame al reed. 
And Pandarus gan under for to prye, 
And seyde, "Nece, if that I shal been deed, 
Have heer a swerd and smyteth of myn heed." 
With that his arm al sodeynly he thriste 
Under hir nekke, and at the laste hir kiste. 

I passe al that which chargeth nought to seye, — 
What! God foryaf his deeth, and she al-so 
Foryaf , and with hir uncle gan to pleye, 
For other cause was ther noon than so. 
But of this thing right to the effect to go. 
Whan tyme was, hom til hir hous she wente, 
And Pandarus hath fully his entente. 

Now torne we ayein to Troilus, 

That resteles ful longe a-bedde lay, 

And prevely sente after Pandarus 

To him to come in al the haste he may. 

He com anoon, nought ones seyde he "Nay," 

And Troilus ful sobrely he grette, 

And doun upon his beddes syde him sette. 

This Troilus, with al the affeccioun 

Of frendes love that herte may devyse, 

To Pandarus on knees fil adoun, 

And er that he wolde of the place aryse, 

He gan him thonken in his beste wyse. 

A hondred sythe he gan the tyme blesse 

That he was born to bringe him fro distresse. 

Bit.. Ill, 1562-1596 



186 CHAUCER iii. 967-iooi 

He seyde, ''O frend, of frendes the alderbeste 

That evere was, the sothe for to telle, 

Thou hast in hevene y-brought my soule at reste 

Fro Flegiton, the fery flood of helle. 

That though I mighte a thousand tymes selle 

Upon a day my lyf in thy servyse, 

It mighte nought a mot in that sufifyse. 

''Thus hastow me no litel thing y-yive, 

For which to thee obliged be for ay 

My lyf, and why? For thorugh thyn help I live; 

For elles deed had I be many a day." 

And with that word doun in his bed he lay, 

And Pandarus ful sobrely him herde 

Til al was seyd, and than he him answerde: 

''My dere frend, if I have doon for thee 
In any cas, God wot, it is me leef ; 
And am as glad as man may of it be, 
God helpe me so. But tak now not a-greef 
That I shal seyn: be war of this mischeef. 
That ther-as thou. now wrought art in- to bHsse 
That thou thy-self ne cause it nought to misse. 

"For of Fortunes sharp adversitee 

The worste kinde of infortune is this: 

A man to have ben in prosperitee. 

And it remembren whan it passed is. 

Thou art wys y-nough, for-thy do nought amis. 

Be not to rakel though thou sitte warme, 

For if thou be, certeyn it wol thee harme." 

Quod Troilus, "I hope, and God to-forn. 
My dere frend, that I shal so me bere 
That in my gilt ther shal no thing be lorn, 
Ne I nil not rakle as for to greven here. 
It nedeth not this matere ofte tere; 
For wistestow myn herte wel, Pandare, 
God woot, of this thou woldest Htel care." 

Sk., m, 1597-1603; 1611-1631; 1639-1645 



il 



Ill 1002-1036 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 187 

Tho gan he telle him of his glade night. 
And wher-of first his herte dredde, and how, 
And seyde, '' Freend, as I am trewe knight, 
And by that feyth I shal to God and yow, 
I had it nevere half so hote as now; 
And ay the more that desyr me byteth 
To love hir best, the more it me delyteth. 

"I noot my-self not wisly what it is; 

But now I fele a newe qualitee. 

Ye, al another than I did er this." 

Pandare answerde, and seyde thus, that "he 

That ones may in hevene bhsse be, 

He feleth other weyes, dar I leye. 

Than thilke tyme he first herde of it seye." 

This is o word for al; this Troilus 
Was nevere ful to speke of this matere, 
And for to preysen un-to Pandarus 
The bountee of his righte lady dere. 
And Pandarus to thanke and maken chere. 
This tale ay was span-newe to biginne 
Til that the night departed hem a-twinne. 

Sone after this, for that Fortune it wolde, 
I-comen was the bhsful tyme swete. 
That Troilus was warned that he sholde, 
Ther he was erst, Criseyde his lady mete; 
For which he felte his herte in loye flete, 
And f eythf ully gan alle the goddes herie. 
And lat see now if that he can be merie. 

Nought nedeth it to yow, sin they ben met, 

To aske at me if that they blythe were; 

For if it erst was wel, tho was it bet 

A thousand-fold, this nedeth not enquere. 

A-gon was every sorwe and every fere; 

And bothe, y-wis, they had, and so they wende, 

As muche loye as herte may comprende. 

S^.. Ill 1646-1673; 1681-1687 



188 CHAUCER iii, 1037-1071 

But cruel day, so wel-awey the stounde! 
Gan for to aproche, as they by signes knewe, 
For which hem thoughte felen dethes wounde. 
So wo was hem that changen gan hir hewe, 
And day they gonnen to dispyse al newe, 
CaUing it traytour, envyous, and worse, 
And bitterly the dayes light they curse. 

Quod Troilus, "Alias! now am I war 
That Pirous and tho swif te stedes three. 
Which that drawen forth the sonnes char, 
Han goon som by-path in despyt of me, 
That maketh it so sone day to be. 
And for the sonne him hasteth thus to ryse 
Ne shal I nevere doon him sacrifyse!" 

But nedes day departe moste hem sone; 

And whan hir speche doon was and hir chere, 

They twinne anoon as they were wont to done. 

And setten tyme of meting eft y-fere. 

And many a night they wroughte in this manere, 

And thus Fortune a tyme ladde in loye 

Criseyde and eek this kinges sone of Troye. 

In suffisaunce, in blisse, and in singinges. 
This Troilus gan al his lyf to lede. 
He spendeth, lusteth, maketh festeyinges; 
He yeveth frely ofte, and chaungeth wede, 
And held aboute him alwey, out of drede, 
A world of folk, as cam him wel of kinde. 
The fressheste and the beste he coude fynde. 

And most of love and vertu was his speche, r 

And in despyt had alle wrecchednesse; |' 

And doutelees, no nede was him biseche I 

To honouren hem that hadde worthinesse 
And esen hem that weren in distresse. 
And glad was he if any wight wel ferde, 
That lover was, whan he it wiste or herde. 

Sk., Ill, 1695-1722; 1786-1792 



111,1072-1092. TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 189 

IV, 1-7 

For sooth to seyn, he lost held every wight • s 

But-if he were in Loves heigh servyse, ^^ 

I mene folk that oughte it been of right. 

And over al this, so wel coude he devyse 

Of sentement, and in so unkouth wyse 

Al his array, that every lover thoughte 

That al was wel, what- so he seyde or wroughte. 

Thou lady bright, the doughter to Dione, 

Thy bhnde and winged sone eek, Daun Cupyde; 

Ye sustren nyne eek that by EHcone 

In hil Parnaso listen for to abyde: 

That ye thus fer han deyned me to gyde, 

I can no more but — sin that ye wol wende — 

Ye heried been for ay, with-outen ende! 

Thourgh yow have I seyd fully in my song 

Theffect and loye of Troilus servyse, 

Al be that ther was som disese among, 

As to myn auctor Hsteth to devyse. 

My thridde book now ende ich in this wyse; 

And Troilus in lust and in quiete 

Is with Criseyde, his owne herte swete. 

Explicit Liber Tercius. 



Book IV 

Incipit Quartus Liber 

But al to litel, weylawey the whyle, 

Lasteth swich loye, y-thonked be Fortune! 

That semeth trewest whan she wol bygyle, 

And can to foles so hir song entune 

That she hem hent and blent, tray tour comune; 

And whan a wight is from hir wheel y- thro we. 

Than laugheth she and maketh him the mowe. 

Sk., Ill, 1793-1799: 1807-1820; IV, 1-7 



190 CHAUCER iv.8-42 

O ye Herines, Nightes doughtren three, 
That endelees compleynen evere in pyne, 
Megera, Alete, and eek Thesiphone; 
Thou cruel Mars eek, fader to Quiryne: 
This ilke ferthe book me helpeth fyne, 
So that the los of lyf and love y-fere 
Of Troilus be fully shewed here. 

Ligging in ost, as I have seyd er this, 

The Grekes stronge aboute Troye toun, 

Bifel that whan that Phebus shyning is 

Up-on the brest of Hercules Lyoun, 

That Ector, with ful many a bold baroun. 

Caste on a day with Grekes for to fighte, 

As he was wont to greve hem what he mighte. 

The longe day, with speres sharpe y-grounde. 

With arwes, dartes, swerdes, maces felle. 

They fighte and bringen hors and man to grounde, 

And with hir axes oute the braynes quelle. 

But in the laste shour, sooth for to telle. 

The folk of Troye hem-selven so misledden 

That with the worse at night homward they fledden. 

At whiche day was taken Antenor, 
Maugre Polydamas or Monesteo, 
Santipee, Sarpedon, Polynestor, 
Polyte, or eek the Troian Daun Ripheo, 
And othere lasse folk, as Phebuseo. 
So that for harm that day the folk of Troye 
Dredden to lese a greet part of hir loye. 

Of Pryamus was yeve at Greek requeste 
A tvme of trewe, and tho they gonnen trete 
Hir prisoneres to chaungen, moste and leste, 
And for the surplus yeven sommes grete. 
This thing anoon was couth in every strete, 
Bothe in thassege, in toune, and every-where, 
And with the firste it cam to Calkas ere. 

Sk.,IV. 22-35; 43-63 



IV. 43-77 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 191 

Whan Calkas knew this tretis sholde holde 
In consistorie among the Grekes, sone 
He gan in thringe forth with lordes olde, 
And sette him ther-as he was wont to done; 
And with a chaunged face hem bad a bone, 
For love of God, to don that reverence 
To stinte noyse and yeve him audience. 

Than seyde he thus, ^'Lo! lordes myne, I waS' 
Troian, as it is knowen out of drede; 
And if that yow remembre, I am Calkas; 
That alderfirst yaf comfort to your nede, 
And tolde wel how that ye sholden spede. 
For dredelees thorugh yow shal in a stounde 
Ben Troye y-brend and beten doun to grounde. 

''Having un-to my tresour ne my rente 

Right no resport, to respect of your ese, 

Thus al my good I loste and to yow wente, Y\ 

Wening in this you, lordes, for to plese. 

But al that los ne doth me no disese. 

I vouche-sauf , as wisly have I loye. 

For yow to lese al that I have in Troye, 

''Save of a doughter that I lafte, alias! 
Sleping at hoom, whan out of Troye I sterte. 
O Sterne, O cruel fader that I was! 
How mighte I have in that so hard an herte? 
Alias! I ne had y-brought hir in hir sherte! 
For sorwe of which I wol not live to morwe, 
But-if ye lordes rewe up-on my sorwe. 

"Ye have now caught and fetered in prisoun 

Troians y-nowe; and if your willes be 

My child with oon may have redempcioun. 

Now for the love of God and of bountee, 

Oon of so fele, alias! so yeve him me! 

What nede were it this preyere for to werne 

Sin ye shul bothe han folk and toun as yerne? " 

Sk.. IV, 64-77; 85-98; 106-112 



^. 



192 CHAUCER iv. 78-112 

Telling his tale alwey, this olde greye, 
Humble in speche and in his loking eke, 
The sake teres from his eyen tweye 
Ful faste ronnen doun by eyther cheke. 
So longe he gan of socour hem by-seke 
That for to hele him of his sorwes sore 
They yave him Antenor, with-oute more. 

But who was glad y-nough but Calkas tho? 

And of this thing ful sone his nedes leyde 

On hem that sholden for the tretis go, 

And hem for Antenor ful ofte preyde 

To bringen hoom King Toas and Criseyde. 

And whan Pryam his save-garde sente, 

Thembassadours to Troye streyght they wente. 

The cause y-told of hir coming, the olde 
Pryam the king ful sone in general 
Let heer-upon his parlement to holde, 
Of which the effect rehersen yow I shal. 
Thembassadours ben answered for fynal, 
Theschaunge of prisoners and al this nede 
Hem lyketh wel, and forth in they procede. 

This Troilus was present in the place 
Whan axed was for Antenor Criseyde, 
For which ful sone chaungen gan his face, 
As he that with tho wordes wel neigh deyde. 
But nathelees, he no word to it seyde 
Lest men sholde his affeccioun espye; 
With mannes herte he gan his sorwes drye. 

And ful of anguish and of grisly drede 
Abood what lordes wolde un-to it seye. 
And if they wolde graunte, as God forbede, 
Theschaunge of hir, than thoughte he thinges tweye: 
First, how to save hir honour, and what weye 
He mighte best theschaunge of hir withstonde. 
Ful faste he caste how al this mighte stonde. 

Sk., IV, 127-161 



IV. 113-147 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 193 

Love him made al prest to doon hir byde, 

And rather dye than she sholde go; 

But rcsoun seyde him, on that other syde, 

''With-oute assent of hir ne do not so, 

Lest for thy werk she wolde be thy fo 

And seyn that thorugh thy medhng is y-blowe 

Your bother love, ther it was erst unknowe." 

For v^rhich he gan dehberen, for the beste. 
That though the lordes wolde that she wente, 
He wolde late hem graunte what hem leste. 
And telle his lady first what that they mente. 
And whan that she had seyd him hir entente, 
Ther-af ter wolde he werken also blyve 
Though al the world ayein it wolde stryve. 

Ector, which that wel the Grekes herde. 
For Antenor how they wolde han Criseyde, 
Gan it withstonde, and sob rely answerde: 
*' Sires, she nis no prisoner," he seyde; 
"I noot on yow who hath this charge leyde, 
But on my part ye may eft-sone him telle 
We usen heer no wommen for to selle." 

The noyse of peple up-stirte than at ones, 

As breme as blase of straw y-set on fyre; 

For infortune it wolde, for the nones, 

They sholden hir confusioun desyre. 

"Ector," quod they, ''what goost may yow enspyre 

This womman thus to shilde and doon us lese 

Daun Antenor? A wrong wey now ye chese, 

"That is so wys and eek so bold baroun. 

And we han nede of folk, as men may see. 

He is eek oon the grettest of this toun. 

O Ector, lat tho fantasyes be! 

O King Pryam," quod they, "thus seggen we, 

That al our voys is to for-gon Criseyde;" 

And to deliveren Antenor they preyde. 

Sk., IV. 162-196 



194 CHAUCER iv. i48-i82 

O luvenal, lord ! trewe is thy sentence 

That litel witen folk what is to yerne 

That they ne finde in hir desyr offence; 

For cloude of errour lat hem not descerne 

What best is: and lo, heer ensample as yerne. 

This folk desiren now deliveraiince 

Of An tenor, that broughte hem to mischaunce! 

For he was after traytour to the toun 

Of Troye; alias! they quitte him out to rathe! 

O nyce world, lo, thy discrecioun ! 

Criseyde, which that nevere did hem skathe, 

Shal now no lenger in hir blisse bathe; 

But Antenor, he shal come hoom to toune, 

And she shal oute: thus seyden here and howne. 

For which delibered was by parlement 
For Antenor to yelden up Criseyde, 
And it pronounced by the president, 
Al-theigh that Ector '' Nay " ful of te preyde. 
And fynaly what wight that it with-seyde. 
It was for nought, it moste been, and sholde; 
For substaunce of the parlement it wolde. 

Departed out of parlement echone. 

This Troilus, with-oute wordes mo, 

Un-to his chaumbre spedde him faste allone, 

But-if it were a man of his or two, 

The which he bad oute faste for to go 

By-cause he wolde slepen, as he seyde. 

And hastely up-on his bed him leyde. 

He rist him up, and every dore he shette 
And windowe eek, and tho this sorweful man 
Up-on his beddes syde a-doun him sette, 
Ful lyk a deed image pale and wan. 
And in his brest the heped wo bigan 
Out-breste, and he to werken in this wyse 
In his woodnesse, as I shal yow devyse. 

Sk., IV, 197-224; 232-238 



IV, 183-217 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 195 

Right as the wilde bole biginneth springe 
Now heer, now ther, y-darted to the herte, 
And of his deeth roreth in compleyninge, 
Right so gan he aboute the chaumbre sterte, 
Smyting his brest ay with his festes smerte. 
His head ay to the wal, his body to the grounde, 
Ful ofte he swapte, him-selven to confounde. 

But after whan the furie and the rage 
Which that his herte twiste and faste threste, 
By lengthe of tyme somwhat gan asswage, 
Up-on his bed he leyde him doun to reste. 
But tho bigonne his teres more out-breste 
That wonder is the body may suffyse 
To half this wo which that I yow devyse. 

Than seyde he thus, "Fortune! alias, the whylel 
What have I doon, what have I thus a-gilt? 
How mightestow for reuthe me bigyle? 
Is ther no grace, and shal I thus be spilt? 
Shal thus Cri seyde awey for that thou wilt? 
Alias! how may stow in thyn herte finde 
To been to me thus cruel and unkinde? 

"O olde, unholsom, and mislyved man! 

Calkas I mene, alias! what eyleth thee 

To been a Greek, sin thou art born Troian? 

O Calkas, which that wilt my bane be, 

In cursed tyme was thou born for me! 

As wolde blisful love, for his loye. 

That I thee hadde wher I wolde in Troye!'* 

A thousand sykes hotter than the glede 
Out of his brest ech after other wente, 
Medled with pleyntes newe, his wo to fede, 
For which his woful teres nevere stente. 
And shortly, so his peynes him to-rente 
And wex so mat that loye nor penaunce 
He feleth noon, but lyth forth in a traunce. 

Sk..IV, 239-245; 253-266; 330-343 



196 CHAUCER iv. 218-252 

Pandare, which that in the parlement 

Had herd what every lord and burgeys seyde, 

And how ful graunted was by oon assent 

For Antenor to yelden so Criseyde, 

Gan wel neigh wood out of his wit to breyde, 

So that for wo he niste what he mente; 

But in a rees to Troilus he wente. 

A certeyn knight, that for the tyme kepte 
The chaumbre-dore, un-did it him anoon. 
And Pandare, that ful tendreliche wepte, 
In-to the derke chaumbre, as stille as stoon, 
Toward the bed gan softely to goon, 
So confus that he niste what to seye. 
For verray wo his wit was neigh aweye. 

And with his chere and loking al to-top-n 

For sorwe of this, and with his armes folden. 

He stood this woful Troilus biforn 

And on his pitous face he gan biholden. 

But Lord, so often gan his herte colden, 

Seing his frend in wo, whos hevinesse 

His herte slow, as thoughte him, for distresse! 

But at the laste this woful Troilus, 
Ney ded for smert, gan bresten outQ to rore, 
And with a sorwful noyse he seyde thus 
Among his sobbes and his sykes sore: 
"Lo! Pandare, I am deed, with-outen more. 
Hastow nought herd at parlement," he seyde, 
"For Antenor how lost is my Criseyde?" 

This Pandarus, ful deed and pale of hewe, 

Ful pitously answerde and seyde, " Yis! 

As wisly were it fals as it is trewe 

That I have herd and wot al how it is! 

O mercy, God, who wolde hav^ trowed this? 

Who wolde have wend that in so litel a throwe 

Fortune our loye wolde han over-throwe? 

Sk., IV, 344-364; 372-385 



IV. 253-287 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 197 

" But telle me this, why thou art now so mad 

To sorwen thus? why lystow in this wyse, 

Sin thy desyr al holly hastow had, 

So that by right it oughte y-now suffyse? 

But I, that nevere felte in my servyse 

A frendly chere or loking of an ye, 

Lat me thus wepe and wayle, til I dye. 

"And over al this, as thou wel wost thy-selve, 
This town is ful of ladies al aboute; 
And to my doom, fairer than swiche twelve 
As evere she was, shal I finde in som route, 
Ye, oon or two, with-outen any doute. 
For-thy be glad, myn owene dere brother, 
If she be lost, we shul recovere another." 

Thise wordes seyde he for the nones alle 
To helpe his freend lest he for sorwe deyde. 
For doutelees, to doon his wo to falle. 
He roughte not what unthrif t that he seyde. 
But Troilus, that neigh for sorwe deyde, 
Tok litel hede of al that evere he mente : 
Oon ere it herde, at the other oute it wente. 

But at the laste answerde and seyde, ''Freend, 

This lechecraft, or heled thus to be. 

Were wel sitting if that I were a feend. 

To traysen hir that trewe is unto me! 

T pray God lat this consayl nevere y-thee; 

But do me rather sterve anon-right here 

Er I thus do as thou me woldest lere. 

"She that I serve, y-wis, what so thou seye, 
To whom myn herte enhabit is by right, 
Shal han me holly hires til that I deye. 
For Pandarus, sin I have trouthe hir hight, 
I wol not been untrewe for no wight; 
But as hir man I wol ay live and sterve 
And nevere other creature serve. 

Sk., IV, 393-406; 428-448 



198 CHAUCER iv, 288-322 

"And ther thou seyst thou shalt as faire finde 
As she, lat be, make no comparisoun 
To creature y-formed heer by kinde. 

leve Pandare, in conclusioun, 

1 wol not be of thyn opinioun. 
Touching al this. For which I thee biseche 

So hold thy pees; thou sleest me with thy speche!" 

This Troilus in teres gan distille 
As licour out of alambyk ful faste; 
And Pandarus gan holde his tunge stille, 
And to the grounde his eyen doun he caste. 
But nathelees, thus thoughte he at the laste, 
"What, parde, rather than my felawe deye, 
Yet shal I som-what more un-to him seye." 

And seyde "Freend, sin thou hast swich distresse, 
And sin thee Hst myn arguments to blame, 
Why nilt thy-selven helpen doon redresse, 
And with thy manhod letten al this grame? 
Go favisshe hir ne canstow not? For shame! 
And outher lat hir out of toune fare. 
Or hold hir stille and leve thy nyce fare! 

"Artow in Troye, and hast non hardiment 
To take a womman which that loveth thee, 
And wolde hir-selven been of thyn assent? 
Now is not this a nyce vanitee? 
Rys up anoon, and lat this weping be, 
And kyth thou art a man; for in this houre 
I wil be deed, or she shal bleven oure." 

To this answerde him Troilus ful sof te 

And seyde, "Parde, leve brother dere, 

Al this have I my-self yet thought ful ofte, 

And more thing than thou devysest here. 

But why this thing is laft, thou shalt wel here; 

And whan thou me hast yeve an audience, 

Ther-after mayst thou telle al thy sentence. 

Sk., IV, 449-455; 519-546 



323-357 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 199 

"First, sin thou wost this toun hath al this werre 

For ravisshing of wommen so by might, 

It sholde not be suffred me to erre, 

As it stant now, ne doon so gret unright. 

I sholde han also blame of every wight. 

My fadres graunt if that I so withstode, 

Sin she is chaunged for the tounes goode. 

"I have eek thought, so were it hir assent, 
To aske hir at my fader of his grace; 
Than thenke I this were hir accusement, 
Sin wel I woot I may hir not purchace. 
For sin my fader in so heigh a place 
As parlement hath hir eschaunge enseled, 
He nil for me his lettre be repeled. 

"Yet drede I most hir herte to pertourbe 
With violence, if I do swich a game; 
For if I wolde it openly distourbe. 
It moste been disclaundre to hir name. 
And me were lever deed than hir defame, 
As nolde God but-if I sholde have 
Hir honour lever than my lyf to save! 

"Thus am I lost for ought that I can see; 
For certeyn is sin that I am hir knight, 
I moste hir honour lever han than me 
In every cas, as lover oughte of right. 
Thus am I with desyr and reson . vi/zht: 
Desyr for to distourben hir me redeth, 
And reson nil not, so myn herte dredeth." 

Thus weping that he coude nevere cesse. 
He seyde, "Alias! how shal I, wrecche, fare? 
For wel fele I alwey my love encresse. 
And hope is lasse and lasse alwey, Pandare! 
Encressen eek the causes of my care: 
So wel-a-wey, why nil myn herte breste? 
For as in love ther is but litel reste.^' 

IV, 547-581 



200 CHAUCER iv. 358-392 

Pandare answerde, "Freend, thou mayst, for me, 

Don as thee list. But had ich it so hote, 

And thyn estat, she sholde go with me. 

Though al this toun cryede on this thing by note, 

I nolde sette at al that noyse a grote. 

For when men han wel cry^d, than wol they roune: 

A wonder last but nyne night nevere in toune. 

"Devyne not in reson ay so depe 

Ne curteysly, but help thy-self anoon. 

Bet is that othere than thy-selven wepe, 

And namely, sin ye two been al oon. 

Rys up, for by myn heed, she shal not goon! 

And rather be in blame a lyte y-founde 

Than sterve heer as a gnat with-oute wounde! " 

This Troilus gan with tho wordes quiken. 
And seyde, "Freend, graunt mercy, ich assente. 
But certaynly thou mayst not me so priken, 
Ne peyne anoon ne may me so tormente, 
That for no cas it is not myn entente. 
At shorte wordes, though I dyen sholde. 
To ravisshe hir, but-if hir-self it wolde." 

"Why, so mene I," quod Pandarus, "al this day. 
But telle me than, hastow hir wel assayed. 
That sorwest thus?" And he answerde, "Nay," 
"Wher-of artow," quod Pandare, "than a-mayed. 
That nost not that she wol ben yvel apayed 
To ravisshe hir, sin thou hast not ben there, 
But-if that love tolde it in thyn ere? 

"For-thy rys up, as nought ne were, anoon, 
And wash thy face, and to the king thou wende, 
Or he may wondren whider thou art goon. 
Thou most with wisdom him and othere blende; 
Or up-on cas he may after thee sende 
Er thou be war. And shortly, brother dere. 
Be glad and lat me werke in^ this matere. 

Sk., IV, 582-595; 631-651 



393-427 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 201 

"For I shal shape it so that sikerly 

Thou shalt this night som tyme in som manere 

Com speke with thy lady prevely, 

And by hir wordes eek and by hir chere 

Thou shalt ful sone aparceyve and wel here 

Al hir entente, and in this cas the beste. 

And far now wel, for in this poynt I reste." 

The swif te Fame, which that false thinges 
Egal reporteth lyk the thinges trewe, 
Was thorugh-oute Troye y-fled with preste winges 
Fro man to man, and mad^ this tale al newe, 
How Calkas doughter with hir brighte hewe, 
At parlement, with-oute wordes more, 
I-graunted was in chaunge of Antenore. 

The whiche tale anoon-right as Criseyde 

Had herd, she which that of hir fader roughte, 

As in this cas, right nought, ne whan he deyde, 

Ful bisily to luppiter bisoughte 

Yeve him mischaunce that this tretis broughte. 

But shortly, lest thise tales sothe were, 

She dorste at no wight asken it for fere. 

As she that had hir herte and al hir minde 

On Troilus y-set so wonder faste 

That al this world ne mighte hir love unbinde 

Ne Troilus out of hir herte caste. 

She wol ben his, whyl that hir lyf may laste. 

And thus she brenneth bothe in love and drede. 

So that she niste what was best to rede. 

But as men seen in toune and al aboute 
That wommen usen frendes to visyte, 
So to Criseyde of wommen com a route 
For pitous loye, and wenden hir delyte. 
And with hir tales dere y-nough a myte. 
These wommen, which that in the cite dwelle, 
They sette hem doun and seyde as I shal telle. 

IV, 652-686 



202 CHAUCER iv. 428-462 

Quod first that oon, ^'I am glad trewely 

By-cause of yow that shal your fader see." 

A-nother seyde, '' Y-wis, so nam not I; 

For al to htel hath she with us be." 

Quod tho the thridde, ''I hope, y-wis, that she 

Shal bringen us the pees on every syde, 

That whan she gooth, almighty God hir gyde!" 

Tho wordes and tho wommanisshe thinges 

She herde hem right as though she thennes were; 

For, God it wot, hir herte on other thing is. 

Although the body sat among hem there. 

Hir advertence is alwey elles- where; 

For Troilus ful faste hir soule soughte, 

With-outen word alwey on him she thoughte. 

For which no lenger mighte she restreyne 
Hir teres, so they gonnen up to welle, 
That yeven signes of the bittre peyne 
In which hir spirit was and moste dwelle, 
Remembring hir, fro hevene unto which helle 
She fallen was sith she forgoth the sighte 
Of Troilus; and sorowfully she sighte. 

And thilke foles sitting hir aboute 
Wenden that she wepte and syked sore 
By-cause that she sholde out of that route 
Departe and nevere pleye with hem more. 
And they that had y-knowen hir of yore 
Seye hir so wepe, and thoughte it kindenesse, 
And ech of hem wepte eek for hir distresse. 

But after al this nyce vanitee 

They toke hir leve, and hoom they wenten alle. 

Criseyde ful of sorweful pitee, 

In-to hir chaumbre up wente out of the halle. 

And on hir bed she gan for deed to falle, 

In purpos nevere thennes for to ryse. 

And thus she wroughte as I shal yow devyse. 

Sk., IV, 687-700; 708-721; 729-735 



163-497 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 203 

Hir ounded heer that sonnish was of hewe, 
She rente, and eek hir fingres longe and smale 
She wrong ful ofte, and bad God on hir rewe 
And with the deeth to doon bote on hir bale. 
Hir h^we, whylom bright, that tho was pale. 
Bar witnesse of hir wo and hir constreynte. 
And thus she spak, sobbing in hir compleynte: 

"Alas!" quod she, "out of this regioun 

I, woful wrecche and infortuned wight, 

And born in corsed constellacioun, 

Mot goon, and thus departen fro my knight. 

Wo worth, alias! that ilke dayes light 

On which I saw him first with eyen tweyne. 

That causeth me, and I him, al this peyne!" 

Therwith the teres from hir eyen two 
Doun fille as shour in Aperill ful swythe."'' 
Hir whyte brest she bet, and for the wo 
After the deeth she cryed a thousand sythe, 
Sin he that wont hir wo was for to lythe 
She mot for-goon; for which disaventure 
She held hir-self a forlost creature. 

How mighte it evere y-red ben or y-songe, 

The pleynte that she made in hir distresse? 

I noot; but as for me, my litel tonge. 

If I discreven wolde hir hevinesse. 

It sholde make hir sorwe seme lesse 

Than that it was, and childishly deface 

Hir heigh compleynte, and therfore ich it pace. 

Pandare, which that sent from Troilus 
Was to Criseyde, as ye han herd devyse. 
That for the beste it was accorded thus, 
And he ful glad to doon him that servyse, 
Un-to Criseyde in a ful secree wyse, 
Ther-as she lay in torment and in rage, 
Com hir to telle al hooUy his message. 

IV. 736-756; 799-812 



204 CHAUCER iv. 498-532 

And fond that she hir-selven gan to trete 
Ful pitously; for with hir salte teres 
Hir brest, hir face, y-bathed was ful wete; 
The mighty tresses of hir sonnish heres 
Unbroyden hangen al aboute hir eres, 
Which yaf him verray signal of martyre 
Of deeth, which that hir herte gan desyre. 

Whan she him saw, she gan for sorwe anoon 
Hir te^y face a-twixe hir armes hyde, 
For which this Pandare is so wo bi-goon 
That in the hous he mighte unnethe abyde, 
As he that pitee felte on every syde. 
For if Criseyde had erst compleyned sore, 
Tho gan she pleyne a thousand tymes more. 

And in hir aspre pleynte than she seyde, 
"Pandare first of loyes mo than two 
Was cause causing un-to me Criseyde, 
That now transmuwed been in cruel wo. 
Wher shal I seye to yow 'welcome' or no. 
That alderfirst me broughte in-to servyse 
Of love, alias! that endeth in swich wyse?" 

"And thou, my suster, ful of discomfort," 
Quod Pandarus, "what thenkestow to do? 
Why ne hastow to thy-selven som resport, 
Why woltow thus thy-selve, alias! for-do? 
Leef al this werk and tak now hede to 
That I shal seyn, and herkne of good entente 
This, which by me thy Troilus thee sente." 

Tornede hir tho Criseyde, a wo makinge 

So greet that it a deeth was for to see: — 

"Alias!" quod she, "what wordes may ye bringe? 

What wol my dere herte seyn to me. 

Which that I drede nevere-mo to see? 

Wol he have pleynte or teres er I wende? 

I have y-nowe, if he ther-after sende!" 

Sk., IV, 813-833; 848-861 



IV, 533-567 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 205 

She was right swich to seen in hir visage 

As is that wight that men on here binde: 

Hir face, lyk of Paradys the image, 

Was al y-chaunged in another kinde. 

The pley, the laughtre men was wont to finde 

In hir, and eek hir loyes everychone, 

Ben fled, and thus lyth now Criseyde allone. 

Aboute hir eyen two a purpre ring 
Bi-trent in sothfast tokning of hir peyne, 
That to biholde it was a dedly thing. 
For which Pandare mighte not restreyne 
The teres from his eyen for to reyne. 
But nathelees, as he best mighte, he seyde 
From Troilus thise wordes to Criseyde: — 

"Lo, nece, I trowe ye han herd al how 
The king with othere lordes for the beste 
Hath mad eschaunge of Antenor and yow, 
That cause is of this sorwe and this unreste. 
But how this cas doth Troilus moleste. 
That may non erthely mannes tonge seye; 
For verray wo his wit is al aweye. 

''For which we han so sorwed, he and I, 
That in- to litel bothe it had us slawe; 
But thurgh my conseil this day fynally 
He somwhat is fro weping now with-drawe. 
And semeth me that he desyreth fawe 
With yow to been al night for to devyse 
Remede in this, if ther were any wyse." 

"Gret is my wo," quod she, and sighte sore 
As she that feleth dedly sharp distresse; 
"But yet to me his sorwe is muchel more, 
That love him bet than he him-self , I gesse. 
Alias! for me hath he swiche hevinesse? 
Can he for me so pitously compleyne? 
Y-wis, this sorwe doubleth al my peyne. 

Sfc., IV, 862-889; 897-903 



206 CHAUCER IV.S68-602 

Grevous to me, God wot, is for to twinne," 

Quod she, "but yet it harder is to me 

To seen that sorwe which that he is inne; 

For wel wot I it wol my bane be, 

And deye I wol in certayn," tho quod she. 

"But bidde him come, er deeth, that thus me threteth, 

Dryve out^ that goost which in myn herte beteth." 

Thise wordes seyd, she on hir armes two 
Fil gruf , and gan to wepe pitously. 
Quod Pandarus, "Alias! why do ye so, 
Syn wel ye wot the tyme is faste by 
That he shal come? Arys up hastely 
That he yow nat biwopen thus ne finde, 
But ye wol han him wood out of his minde! 

" For wiste he that ye f erde in this manere, 
He wolde him-selve slee; and if I wende 
To han this fare, he sholde not come here 
For al the good that Pryam may dispende. 
For to what fyn he wolde anoon pretende, 
That knowe I wel; and for- thy yet I seye, 
So leef this sorwe or platly he wol deye." 

"Go," quod Criseyde, "and uncle, trewely, 
I shal don al my might me to restreyne 
From weping in his sighte, and bisily. 
Him for to glade, I shal don al my peyne, 
And in myn herte seken every veyne. 
If to this soore ther may be founden salve 
It shal not lakken, certain, on myn halve." 

Goth Pandarus, and Troilus he soughte 

Til in a temple he fond him al allone. 

As he that of his lyf no lenger roughte. 

But to the pitouse goddes everichone 

Ful tendrely he preyde and made his mone 

To doon him sone out of this world to pace; 

For wel he thought? ther was non other grace. 

Sk., IV, 904-924; 939-952 



IV. 603-637 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 207 

And shortly, al the sothe for to seye, 
He was so fallen in despeyr that day 
That outrely he shoop him for to deye. 
For right thus was his argument alwey: 
He seyde he nas but loren, waylawey! 
"For al that comth, comth by necessitee; 
Thus to be lorn, it is my destinee. 

''For certaynly this wot I wel," he seyde, 
"That for-sighte of divyne purveyaunce 
Hath seyn alwey me to for-gon Criseyde, 
Sin God seeth every thing, out of doutaunce, 
And hem desponeth thourgh his ordenaunce 
In hir merytes sothly for to be 
As they shul comen by predestinee. 

"But nathelees, alias! whom shal I leve? 
For ther ben grete clerkes many oon 
That destinee thorugh argumentes preve; 
And som men seyn that nedely ther is noon, 
But that free chois is yeven us everichoon. 
O, welaway! so sleye arn clerkes olde 
That I not whos opinion I may holde. 

" For som men seyn, if God seth al bifom, 
Ne God may not deceyved ben, pardee. 
Than moot it fallen, though men had it sworn, 
That purveyaunce hath seyn bifor^ to be. 
Wherfore I sey^ that from eterne if he 
Hath wist biforn our thought eek as our dede, 
We have no free chois, as thes^ clerkes rede." 

Than seyde he thus, "Almighty love in trone 
That wost of al this thing the soothfastnesse, 
Rewe on my sorwe or do me deye sone. 
Or bring Criseyde and me fro this distresse." 
" And whyl he was in al this hevinesse 
Disputing with him-self in this matere, 
Com Pandare in and seyde as ye may here. 

Sk., IV, 953-980; 1079-1085 



208 CHAUCER iv. 638-672 

"O mighty God," quod Pandarus, "in trone, 
Ey! who seigh evere a wys man faren so? 
Why, Troilus, what thenkestow to done? 
Hastow swich lust to been thyn owene fo? 
What, parde, yet is not Criseyde a-go! 
Why lust thee so thy-self for-doon for drede 
That in thyn heed thyn eyen semen dede? 

"Hastow not lived many a yeer biforn 
With-outen hir, and ferd ful wel at ese? 
Artow for hir and for non other born? 
Hath kinde thee wroughte al-only hir to plese? 
Lat be, and thenk right thus in thy disese. 
That, in the dees right as ther fallen chaunces. 
Right so in love ther come and goon plesaunces. 

"And yet this is a wonder most of alle, 
Why thou thus sorwest, sin thou nost not yit, 
Touching hir going, how that it shal falle, 
Ne if she can hir-self distorben it. 
Thou hast not yet assayed al hir wiV 
A man may al by tyme his nekke bede 
Whan it shal of, and sorwen at the nede. 

"For-thy tak hede of that that I shal seye: 
I have with hir y-spoke and longe y-be, 
So as accorded was bitwixe us tweye. 
And evere-mo me thinketh thus, that she 
Hath som-what in hir hertes prevetee 
Wher-with she can, if I shal right arede, 
Distorbe al this of which thou art in drede. 

"For which my counseil is, whan it is night, 
Thou to hir go and make of this an ende; 
And blisful luno thourgh hir grete might 
Shal, as I hope, hir grace un-to us sende. 
Myn herte seyth, 'Certeyn she shal not wende;' 
And for-thy put thyn herte a whyle in reste, 
And hold this purpos, for it is the beste." 

Sk., IV, 1086-1120 



IV, 673-707 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 209 

This Troilus answerde, and sighte sore, 
"Thou seyst right wel, and I wil do right so; " 
And what him hste, he seyde un-to it more. 
And whan that it was tyme for to go, 
Ful prevely him-self , with-outen mo, 
Un-to hir com as he was wont to done. 
And how they wroughte, I shal yow telle sone. 

Soth is that whan they gonne first to mete, 

So gan the peyne hir hertes for to twiste 

That neither of hem other mighte grete. 

But hem in armes toke and after, kiste. 

The lasse woful of hem bothe niste 

Wher that he was, ne mighte o word out-bringe, 

As I seyde erst, for wo and for sobbinge. 

Tho woful teres that they leten falle 

As bittre weren, out of teres kinde. 

For peyne as is ligne aloes or galle. 

So bittre teres weep nought, as I finde. 

The woful Myrra through the bark and rinde. 

That in this world ther nis so hard an herte 

That nolde han rewed on hir peynes smerte. 

But whan hir woful wery gostes tweyne 

Retorned been ther-as hem oughte dwelle. 

And that som-what to wayken gan the peyne 

By lengthe of pleynte, and ebben gan the welle 

Of hir teres, and the herte unswelle. 

With broken voys al hoors for shright, Criseyde 

To Troilus thise ilke wordes seyde: 

"O love, I deye, and mercy I beseche! 
Help, Troilus!" and ther-with-al hir face 
Upon his brest she leyde, and loste speche; 
Hir woful spirit from his propre place 
Right with the word alwey up poynt to pace. 
And thus she lyth with hewes pale and grene. 
That whylom freshe and fairest was to sene. 

Sk., IV, 1121-1155 



210 CHAUCER i\.708-742 

This Troilus, that on hir gan biholde, 
Cleping hir name — and she lay as for deed 
With-oute answere, and felte hir hmes colde, 
Hir eyen throwen upward to hir heed — 
This sorwful man can now noon other reed, 
But ofte tyme hir colde mouth he kiste. 
Wher him was wo, God and him-self it wiste! 

He rist him up and longe streight he hir leyde; 
For signe of lyf , for ought he can or may, 
Can he noon finde in no-thing on Criseyde, 
For which his song ful ofte is ''Weylaway!" 
But whan he saugh that specheles she lay, 
With sorwful voys and herte of bhsse al bare 
He seyde how she was fro this world y-fare! 

So after that he longe had hir complayned, 

His hondes wrong, and seyde that was to seye. 

And with his teres salte hir brest bireyned. 

He gan tho teris wypen of ful dreye. 

And pitously gan for the soule preye. 

And seyde, ''O Lord, that set art in thy trone, 

Rewe eek on me, for I shal folwe hir sone!" 

And after this, with sterne and cruel herte. 
His swerd a-noon out of his shethe he twighte 
' Him-self to sleen, how sore that him smerte, 
So that his sowle hir sowle folwen mighte 
Ther-as the doom of Mynos wolde it dighte, 
Sin Love and cruel Fortune it ne wolde 
That in this world he lenger liven sholde. 

Than seyde he thus, fulfild of heigh desdayn, 
" O cruel love, and thou. Fortune adverse, 
This al and som, that falsly have ye slayn 
Criseyde, and sin ye may do me no werse, 
Fy on your might and werkes so diverse! 
Thus cowardly ye shul me nevere winne. 
Ther shal no deeth me fro my lady twinne. 

Sk., IV, 1156-1176; 1184-1197 



IV. 743-777 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 211 

"And thou, citee, which that I leve in wo, 
And thou, Pryam, and bretheren al y-fere, 
And thou, my moder, farewel! for I go! 
And Attropos, make redy thou my here! 
And thou, Criseyde, O swete herte dere, 
Receyve now my spirit!" wolde he seye, 
With swerd at herte al redy for to deye. 

But as God wolde, of swough ther-with she abreyde 
And gan to syke and ''Troilus " she cryde. 
And he answerde, ''Lady myn Criseyde, 
Live ye yet?" and leet his swerd doun glyde. 
"Ye, herte myn, that thanked be Cupyde!" 
Quod she, and ther-with-al she sore sighte, 
And he bigan to glade hir as he mighte. 

Took hir in armes two, and kiste hir ofte, 
And hir to glade he did al his entente, 
For which hir goost, that flikered ay on-lofte, 
In-to hir woful herte ayein it wente. 
But at the laste, as that hir eyen glente 
A-syde, anoon she gan his swerd aspye 
As it lay bare, and gan for fere crye, 

And asked him why he it had out-drawe. 

And Troilus anoon the cause hir tolde, 

And how himself ther-with he wolde have slawe, 

For which Criseyde up-on him gan biholde, 

And gan him in hir armes faste folde. 

And seyde, "O mercy, God, lo, which a dede! 

Alias! how neigh we were bothe dede! 

"Than if I ne hadde spoken, as grace was. 

Ye wolde han slayn your-self anoon?" quod she. 

"Ye, douteless;" and she answerde, "Alias! 

For by that ilke Lord that made me, 

I nolde a forlong wey on-lyve han be 

After your deeth, to han be crowned quene 

Of al the lond the sonne on shyneth shene." 

Sk., IV, 1205-1239 



212 CHAUCER iv, 778-812 

Whan they were in hir bedde in armes folde, 
Nought was it lyk tho nightes heer-biforn; 
For pitously ech other gan biholde 
As they that hadden al hir bUsse y-lorn, 
BiwayHng ay the day that they were born. 
Til at the last this sorwf ul wight Criseyde 
To Troilus these ilke wordes seyde: — 

"Lo, herte myn, wel wot ye this," quod she, 
''That if a wight alwey his wo compleyne, 
And seketh nought how holpen for to be, 
It nis but folye and encrees of peyne. 
And sin that heer assembled be we tweyne, 
To finde bote of wo that we ben inne 
It were al tyme sone to biginne. 

"I am a womman, as ful wel ye woot, 
And as I am avysed sodeynly, 
So wol I telle yow whyl it is hoot. 
Me thinketh thus, that neither ye nor I 
Oughte half this wo to make skilfully. 
For ther is art y-now for to redresse 
That yet is mis, and sleen this hevinesse. 

" Sooth is, the wo, the which that we ben inne, 
For ought I woot, for no-thing elles is 
But for the cause that we sholden twinne. 
Considered al, ther nis no-more amis. 
But what is than a remede un-to this 
But that we shape us sone for to mete? 
This al and som, my dere herte swete. 

" Now that I shal wel bringen it aboute 
To come ayein, sone after that I go, 
Ther-of am I no maner thing in doute. 
For dredeles, with-in a wouke or two 
I shal ben heer. And that it may be so 
By alle right, and in a wordes fewe, 
I shal yow wel an heep of weyes shewe. 

Sk., IV, 1247-1281 



IV, 813-847 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 213 

''Now herkneth this, ye han wel understonde 

My going graunted is by parlement, 

So ferforth that it may not be with-stonde 

For al this world, as by my lugement. 

And sin ther helpeth noon avysement 

To letten it, lat it passe out of minde, 

And lat us shape a bettre wey to finde. 

"The sothe is that the twinning of us tweyne 
Wol us disese and cruel liche anoye. 
But him bihoveth som-tyme han a peyne 
That serveth Love, if that he wol have loye. 
And sin I shal no ferther out of Troye 
Than I may ryde ayein on half a morwe, 
It oughte lasse causen us to sorwe. 

"So as I shal not so ben hid in muwe 
That day by day, myn owene herte dere, 
Sin wel ye woot that it is now a truwe, 
Ye shul ful wel al myn estat y-here. 
And er that truwe is doon, I shal ben here, 
And than have ye bothe Antenor y-wonne 
And me also: beth glad now, if ye conne! 

"I see that ofte ther-as we ben now 
That for the beste, our conseil for to hyde, 
Ye speke not with me nor I with yow 
In fourtenight, ne see yow go ne ryde. 
May ye not ten dayes than abyde 
For myn honour in swich an aventure? 
Y-wis, ye mowen elles lite endure! 

"Ye knowe eek how that al my kin is here, 

But-if that onliche it my fader be; 

And eek myn othere thinges alle y-fere, 

And nameliche, my dere herte, ye, 

Whom that I nolde leven for to see 

For al this world as wyd as it hath space; 

Or elles see ich nevere loves face! 

Sk., IV, 1296-1316; 1324-1337 



214 CHAUCER iv. 848-882 

''Why trowe ye my fader in this wyse 
Coveiteth so to see me, but for drede 
Lest in this toun that folkes me dispyse 
By-cause of him for his unhappy dede? 
What woot my fader what lyf that I lede? 
For if he wiste in Troye how wel I fare, 
Us nedeth for my wending nought to care. 

*' Ye seen that every day eek, more and more, 
Men trete of pees. And it supposed is 
That men the queue Eleyne shal restore. 
And Grekes us restore that is mis. 
So though ther nere comfort noon but this. 
That men purposen pees on every syde, 
Ye may the bettre at ese of herte abyde. 

"And though so be that pees ther may be noon. 
Yet hider, though ther nevere pees ne were, 
I moste come; for whider sholde I goon. 
Or how mischaunce sholde I dwelle there 
Among tho men of armes evere in fere? 
For which, as wisly God my soule rede, 
I can not seen wher-of ye sholden drede. 

"Have heer another wey, if it so be 
That al this thing ne may yow not suffyse. 
My fader, as ye knowen wel, pardee. 
Is old, and elde is ful of coveityse. 
And I right now have founden al the gyse, 
With-oute net, wher-with I shal him hente. 
And herkneth how, if that ye wole assente. 

"The moeble which that I have in this toun 
Un-to my fader shal I take, and seye 
That right for trust and for savacioun 
It sent is from a freend of his or tweye, 
The whiche freendes ferventliche him preye 
To senden after more, and that in hye, 
Whyl that this toun stant thus in lupartye. 

Sk.,IV, 1338-1351; 1355^-1372; 1380-1386 



IV. 883-917 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 215 

"And that shal been an huge quantitee, 
Thus shal I seyn, but, lest it folk aspyde, 
This may be sent by no wight but by me. 
I shal eek shewen him if pees bityde 
What frendes that ich have on every syde 
Toward the court, to doon the wrathe pace 
Of Priamus, and doon him stonde in grace. 

"So what for o thing and for other, swete, 

I shal him so enchaunten with my sawes 

That right in hevene his sowle is, shal he mete! 

For al Appollo or his clerkes lawes 

Or calculing avayleth nought three hawes; 

Desyr of gold shal so his sowle blende 

That as me lyst I shal wel make an ende. 

"And if he wolde ought by his sort it preve 
If that I lye, in certayn I shal fonde 
Distorben him and plukke him by the sieve, 
Making his sort, and beren him on honde, 
He hath not wel the goddes understonde. 
For goddes speken in amphibologyes. 
And for oo sooth they tellen twenty lyes. 

"Eek drede fond first goddes, I suppose: 
Thus shal I seyn, and that his cowarde herte 
Made him amis the goddes text to glose 
Whan he for ferde out of his Delphos sterte. 
And but I make him sone to converte 
And doon my reed with-in a day or tweye 
I wol to yow oblige me to deye." 

And treweliche, as writen wel I finde, 
That al this thing was seyd of good entente; 
And that hir herte trewe was and kinde 
Towardes him, and spak right as she mente. 
And that she starf for wo neigh, whan she wente, 
And was in purpos evere to be trewe. 
Thus writen they that of hir werkes knewe. 

Sk., IV, 1387-1421 



216 CHAUCER iv.918-952 

This Troilus with herte and eres spradde 
Herde al this thing devysen to and fro; 
And verrayhch him semed that he hadde 
The selve wit, but yet to lete hir go 
His herte misforyaf him evere-mo. 
But fynally he gan his herte wreste 
To trusten hir, and took it for the beste. 

But natheles the wending of Criseyde, 
For al this world, may nought out of his minde; 
For which ful ofte he pitously hir preyde 
That of hir heste he mighte hir trewe finde. 
And seyde hir, "Certes, if ye be unkinde, 
And but ye come at day set in-to Troye, 
Ne shal I nevere have hele, honour, ne loye. 

"For al-so sooth as sonne up-rist on morwe, 
And God! so wisly thou me, woful wrecche, 
To reste bringe out of this cruel sorwe, 
I wol my-selven slee if that ye drecche. 
But of my deeth though litel be to recche. 
Yet, er that ye me cause so to smerte, 
Dwel rather heer, myn owene swete herte! 

"For trewely, myn owene lady dere, 

Tho sleightes yet that I have herd yow stere 

Ful shaply been to fallen alle y-fere. 

For thus men seyn, ' That oon thenketh the bare, 

But al another thenketh his ledere.' 

Your sire is wys, and seyd is, out of drede, 

*Men may the wyse at-renne, and not at- rede.' 

"It is ful hard to halten unespyed 

Bifore a crepul, for he can the craft. 

Your fader is in sleighte as Argus yed; 

For al be that his moeble is him biraft. 

His olde sleighte is yet so with him laft 

Ye shal not blende him for your woman hede, 

Ne feyne a-right, and that is al my drede. 

Sk., IV, 1422-1428; 1436-1463 



>^^*^ 



IV. 953-987 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 217 

''I noot if pees shal evere-mo bityde; 

But pees or no, for ernest ne for game, 

I woot sin Calkas on the Grekes syde 

Hath ones been and loste so foule his name, 

He dar no more come heer ayein for shame, 

For which that wey for ought I can espye 

To trusten on nis but a fantasye. i, 

'' Ye shal eek seen your fader shal yow glose ^ ' ^' 
To been a wyf ; and as he can wel preche 
He shal som Grek so preyse and wel alose y^^^*^*-*^ 
That ravisshen he shal yow with his speche. 
Or do yow doon by force as he shal teche. 
And Troilus, of whom ye nil han routhe, 
Shal causeles so sterven in his trouthe! 

"And over al this, your fader shal despyse 
Us alle, and seyn this citee nis but lorn; 
And that thassege nevere shal aryse 
For-why the Grekes han it alle sworn 
Til we be slayn and doun our walles torn. 
And thus he shal you with his wordes fere 
That ay drede I that ye wol bleve there. 

" Ye shul eek seen so many a lusty knight 
A-mong the Grekes ful of worthinesse, 
And ech of hem with herte, wit, and might. 
To plesen yow don al his besinesse. 
That ye shul dullen of the rudenesse 
Of us sely Troians, but-if routhe 
Remorde yow, or vertu of your trouthe. 

"And this to me so grevous is to thinke 

That fro my brest it wol my soule rende. 

Ne dredeles in me ther may not sinke 

A good opinoun if that ye wende, :; ,^,^ 

•For-why your faderes sleighte wol us shende. 

And if ye goon, as I have told yow yore. 

So thenk I nam but deed, with-oute more. 

Sk., IV, 1464-1498 



218 CHAUCER iv. 988-1022 

" For which with humble, trewe, and pitous herte 
A thousand tymes mercy I yow preye. . y ^ 
So reweth on myn aspre peynes smerte, \\K^ 
And doth somwhat as that I shal yow seye 
And lat us stele away betwixe us tweye. 
And thenk that folye is, whan man may chese, 
For accident his substaunce ay to lese. 

"I mene this, that sin we mowe er day 

Wei stele away and been to-gider so, A 

What wit were it to putten in assay ,\r 

In cas ye sholden to your fader go, 

If that ye mighte come ayein or no? y 

Thus mene I, that it were a gret folye \3)\ 

To putte that sikernesse in lupartye. ^ ' 

"And vulgarly to speken of substaunce 
Of tresour, may we bothe with us lede 
Y-nough to live in honour and plesaunce 
Til in-to tyme that we shul ben dede. 
And thus we may eschewen al this drede; 
For everich other wey ye can recorde, 
Myn herte, y-wis, may not ther-with acorde. 

"And hardily, ne dredeth no poverte, 
For I have kin and freendes elles-where 
That, though we comen in our bare sherte, 
Us sholde neither lakke gold ne gere ':>"" 

But been honoured whyl v/e dwelten there. 
And go we anoon, for, as in myn entente, 
This is the beste, if that ye wole assente." 

Criseyde, with a syk, right in this wyse 
Answerde, "Y-wis, my dere herte trewe, 
We may wel stele away as ye devyse, 
And finde swiche unthrifty weyes newe, 
But afterward ful sore it wol us rewe. 
And helpe me God so at my moste nede 
As causeles ye suffren al this drede! 

, Sk., IV, 1499-1533 




IV. 1023-1057 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 219 

''For thilke day that I for cherisshinge 
Or drede of fader, or of other wight, 
Or for estat, delyt, or for weddinge 
Be fals to yow, my Troilus, my knight, 
Saturnes doughter, luno, thorugh hir might, 
As wood as Athamante do me dwelle 
Eternaly in Stix, the put of helle! 

" But that ye speke awey thus for to go 

And leten alle your freendes, God for-bede 

For any womman that ye sholden so, 

And namely sin Troye hath now swich nede 

Of help. And eek of o thing taketh hede. 

If this were wist, my lyf laye in balaunce 

And your honour: God shilde us fro mischaunce! 

"And if so be that pees her-after take, 

As alday happeth, after anger, game, 

Why, Lord ! the sorwe and wo ye wolden make 

That ye ne dorste come ayein for shame! 

And er that ye luparten so your name, 

Beth nought to hasty in this hote fare; 

For hasty man ne wanteth nevere care. 

"What trowe ye the peple eek al aboute 
Wolde of it seye? It is ful light to arede. 
They wolden seye, and swere it, out of doute, 
That love ne droof yow nought to doon this dede, 
But lust voluptuous and coward drede. 
Thus were al lost, y-wis, myn herte dere. 
Your honour, which that now shyneth so clere. 

"And also thenketh on myn honestee. 

That floureth yet, how foule I sholde it shende, 

And with what filthe it spotted sholde be. 

If in this forme I sholde with yow wende. 

Ne though I livede un-to the worldes ende, 

My name sholde I nevere ayeinward winne. 

Thus were I lost, and that were routhe and sinne. 

Sk.. IV. 1534-1540; 1555-1582 



220 CHAUCER iv, 10S8-1092 

"And trusteth this, that certes, herte swete, 

Er Phebus suster, Lucina the shene, 

The Leoun passe out of this Ariete, 

I wol ben heer, with-outen any wene. 

I mene, as helpe me luno, hevenes quene, 

The tenthe day, but-if that deeth me assayle, 

I wol yow seen, with-outen any fayle." 

''And now, so this be sooth," quod Troilus, 

"I shal wel suffre un-to the tenthe day, 

Sin that I see that nede it moot be thus. 

But for the love of God, if it be may. 

So lat us stele prively away! 

For evere in oon, as for to hve in reste, — 

Myn herte seyth that it wol been the beste." 

*'0 mercy, God, what lyf is this?" quod she; 
"Alias, ye slee me thus for verray tene! 
I see wel now that ye mistrusten me; 
For by your wordes it is wel y-sene. 
Now for the love of Cynthia, the shene, 
Mistrust me not thus causeles, for routhe. 
Sin to be trewe I have yow plight my trouthe. 

"And thenketh wel that som tyme it is wit 
To spende a tyme a tyme for to winne; 
Ne, pardee, lorn am I nought fro yow yit. 
Though that we been a day or two a-twinne. 
Dryf out the fantasyes yoAA^ with-inne. 
And trusteth me, and leveth eek your sorwe, 
Or heer my trouthe, I wol not live til morwe. 

"For if ye wiste how sore it doth me smerte, 

Ye wolde cesse of this; for God, thou wost 

The pure spirit wepeth in myn herte 

To see yow wepen that I love most. 

And that I moot gon to the Grekes ost. 

Ye, nere it that I wiste remedye 

To come ayein, right heer I wolde dye! 

Sk., IV, 1590-1624 



IV. 1093-1127 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 221 

"And over al this, I pray yow," quod she tho, 
" Myn owene hertes soothfast suffisaunce, 
Sin I am thyn al hool, with-outen mo, 
That whyl that I am absent, no plesaunce 
Of othere do me fro your remembraunce. 
For I am evere a-gast, for-why men rede 
That 'Love is thing ay ful of bisy drede. ' " 

To this answerde Troilus and seyde, 

"Now God, to whom ther nis no cause y-wrye, 

Me glade, as wis I nevere un-to Criseyde, 

Sin thilke day I saw hir first with ye, 

Was fals ne nevere shal til that I dye. 

At shorte wordes, wel ye may me leve: 

I can no more, it shal be founde at preve." 

"Graunt mercy, goode myn, y-wis," quod she, 
"And blisful Venus lat me nevere sterve 
Er I may stonde of plesaunce in degree 
To quyte him wel that so wel can deserve. 
And whyl that God my wit wol me conserve, 
I shal so doon, so trewe I have yow founde, 
That ay honour to me-ward shal rebounde. 

" For trusteth wel that your estat royal 

Ne veyn delyt, nor only worthinesse 

Of yow in werre, or torney marcial, 

Ne pompe, array, nobleye, or eek richesse, 

Ne made me to rewe on your distresse; 

But moral jvertu, grounded upon trouthe. 

That was the cause I first had on yow routhe! 

"And this may lengthe of yeres not for-do, 

Ne remuable Fortune deface. 

But luppiter, that of his might may do 

The sorwful to be glad, so yeve us grace 

Er nightes ten to meten in this place. 

So that it may your herte and myn sufTyse. 

And fareth now wel, for tyme is that ye ryse." 

Sk., IV, 1639-1645; 1653-1673; 1681-1687 



222 CHAUCER iv, ii28-ii4i. v, i-i4 

And after that they longe y-pleyned hadde, 

And ofte y-kist and strait in armes folde, 

The day gan ryse, and Troilus him cladde, 

And rewfulHche his lady gan biholde 

As he that felte dethes cares colde. 

And to hir grace he gan him recomaunde: 

Wher him was wo, this holde I no demaunde. 

For mannes heed imaginen ne can, 

Ne entendement considere, ne tonge telle, 

The cruel peynes of this sorwful man. 

That passen every torment doun in helle. 

For whan he saugh that she ne mighte dwelle, 

Which that his soule out of his herte rente, 

With-outen more, out of the chaumbre he wente. 

Explicit Liber Quartus. 



Book V 

Incipit Liber Quintus 

Aprochen gan the fatal destinee , 

That loves hath in disposicioun. 

And to yow, angry Parcas, sustren three, 

Committeth to don execucioun; 

For which Criseyde moste out of the toun, 

And Troilus shal dwelle forth in pyne 

Til Lachesis his threed no lenger twyne. — 

Ful redy was at pryme Dyomede, 
Criseyde un-to the Grekes ost to lede, 
For sorwe of which she felte hir herte blede 
As she that niste what was best to rede. 
And trewely, as men in bokes rede, 
Men wiste nevere womman han the care 
Ne was so looth out of a toun to fare. 

Sk., IV, 1688-1701; V, 1-7; 15-21 



V. 15-49 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 223 

This Troilus, with-outen reed or lore, 

As man that hath his loyes eek forlore, 

Was wayting on his lady evere-more 

As she that was the soothfast crop and more 

Of al his lust or loyes heer-tofore. 

But Troilus, now farwel al thy loye, 

For shaltow nevere seen hir eft in Troye! 

Soth is that whyl he bood in this manere, 
He gan his wo ful manly for to hyde, 
That wel unnethe it seen was in his chere. 
But at the yate ther she sholde oute ryde 
With certeyn folk, he hoved hir tabyde 
So wo bigoon, al wolde he nought him pleyne, 
That on his hors unnethe he sat for peyne. 

For ire he quook, so gan his herte gnawe, 
Whan Diomede on horse gan him dresse, 
And seyde un-to him-self this ilke sawe, 
"Alias," quod he, "thus foul wrecchednesse 
Why suffre ich it, why nil ich it redresse? 
Were it not bet at ones for to dye 
Than evere-more in langour thus to drye? 

"Why nil I make at ones riche and pore 
To have y-nough to done er that she go? 
Why nil I bringe al Troye upon a rore? 
Why nil I sleen this Diomede also? 
Why nil I rather with a man or two 
Stele hir a-way? Why wol I this endure? 
Why nil I helpen to myn owene cure?" 

But why he nolde doon so fel a dede, 
That shal I seyn, and why him liste it spare: 
He had in herte alwey a maner drede 
Lest that Criseyde in rumour of this fare 
Sholde han ben slayn; lo, this was al his care. 
And elles, certeyn, as I seyde yore. 



He had it doon, with-outen wordes more. 



V, 22-56 



224 CHAUCER v, 5o-84 

Criseyde, whan she redy was to ryde, 

Ful sorwfuUy she sighte, and seyde, "Alias!" 

But forth she moot for ought that may bityde, 

And forth she rit ful sorwfully a pas. 

Ther nis non other remedie in this cas. 

What wonder is though that hir sore smerte, 

Whan she forgoth hir owene swete herte? 

This Troilus in wyse of curteisye, 

With hauk on honde, and with an huge route 

Of knightes, rood and did hir company e, 

Passing al the valeye fer with-oute. 

And ferther wolde han riden, out of doute, 

Ful fayn, and wo was him to goon so sone, 

But torne he moste, and it was eek to done. 

And right with that was Antenor y-come 
Out of the Grekes ost, and every wight 
Was of it glad, and seyde he was wel-come. 
And Troilus, al nere his herte light. 
He peyned him with al his fulle might 
Him to with-holde of weping at the leste, 
And Antenor he kiste, and made feste. 

And ther-with-al he moste his leve take, 

And caste his eye upon hir pitously. 

And neer he rood his cause for to make, 

To take hir by the hond al sobrely. 

And he ful softe and sleighly gan hir seye, 

"Now hold your day, and dooth me not to deye!" 

With that his courser torned he a-boute 

With face pale, and un-to Diomede 

No word he spak, ne noon of al his route; 

Of which the sone of Tydeus took hede, 

As he that coude more than the crede 

In swich a craft, and by the reyne hir hente. 

And Troilus to Troye homward he wente. 

Sk., V, 57-91 



1 



V. 85-119 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 225 

This Diomede, that ladde hir by the brydel, 
Whan that he saw the folk of Troye aweye, 
Thoughte, " Al my labour shal not been on ydel 
If that I may, for somwhat shal I seye. 
For at the worste it may yet shorte our weye. 
I have herd seyd eek tymes twyes twelve, 
'He is a fool that wol for-yete him-selve.' " 

But natheles this thoughte he wel ynough, 
"That certaynly I am aboute nought 
If that I speke of love, or make it tough; 
For douteles, if she have in hir thought 
Him that I gesse, he may not been y-brought 
So sone awey; but I shal finde a mene 
That she not wite as yet shal what I mene." 

This Diomede, as he that coude his good, 
Whan this was doon gan fallen forth in speche 
Of this and that, and asked why she stood 
In swich disese, and gan hir eek biseche 
That if that he encrese mighte or eche 
With any thing hir ese, that she sholde 
Comaunde it him, and seyde he doon it wolde. 

For trewely he swoor hir as a knight 

That ther nas thing with which he might hir plese, 

That he nolde doon his peyne and al his might 

To doon it for to doon hir herte an ese. 

And preyede hir she wolde hir sorwe apese, 

And seyde, '' Y-wis, we Grekes con have loye 

To honouren yow, as wel as folk of Troye." 

He seyde eek thus, "I woot yow thinketh straunge — 
No wonder is, for it is to yow newe — 
Thaqueintaunce of these Troianes to chaunge 
For folk of Grece that ye nevere knewe. 
But wolde nevere God but-if as trewe 
A Greek ye shulde among us alle finde 
As any Troian is, and eek as kinde. 

Sk., v. 92-126 



226 CHAUCER v. 120-154 

"And by the cause I swoor yow right, lo, now, 
To been your freend, and helply, to my might, 
And for that more acqueintaunce eek of yow 
Have ich had than another straunger wight, 
So fro this forth I pray yow, day and night, 
Comaundeth me, how sore that me smerte, 
To doon al that may lyke un-to your herte; 

"And that ye me wolde as your brother trete. 
And taketh not my frendship in despyt; 
And though your sorwes be for thinges grete, 
Noot I not why, but out of more respyt 
Myn herte hath for to amende it greet delyt. 
And if I may your harmes not redresse 
I am right sory for your hevinesse. 

"And nere it that we been so neigh the tente 
Of Calkas, which that seen us bothe may, 
I wolde of this yow telle al myn entente; 
But this enseled til another day. 
Yeve me your hond, I am and shal ben ay, 
God helpe me so, whyl that my lyf may dure, 
Your owene aboven every creature. 

"Thus seyde I nevere er now to womman born; 
For, God myn herte as wisly glade so, 
I lovede nevere womman heer-biforn 
As paramours, ne nevere shal no mo. 
And, for the love of God, beth not my fo: 
Al can I not to yow, my lady dere, 
Compleyne aright, for I am yet to lere. 

"And wondreth not, myn owene lady bright, 
Though that I speke of love to you thus blyve; 
For I have herd or this of many a wight 
Hath loved thing he nevere saugh his lyvQ. 
Eek I am not of power for to stryve 
Ayens the God of Love, but him obeye 
I wol alwey, and mercy I yow preye. 

Sk., V, 127-140; 148-168 



V. 155-189 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 227 

"Ther been so worthy knightes in this place, 

And ye so fair, that everich of hem alle 

Wol peynen him to stonden in your grace. 

But mighte me so fair a grace falle 

That ye me for your servaunt wolde calle, 

So lowly ne so trewely you serve 

Nil noon of hem as I shal til I sterve." 

Criseyde un-to that purpos lyte answerde, 
As she that was with sorwe oppressed so 
That in effect she nought his tales herde 
But heer and ther, now heer a word or two. 
Hir thoughte hir sorwful herte brast a-two. 
For whan she gan hir fader fer aspye, 
Wei neigh doun of hir hors she gan to sye. 

But natheles she thonked Diomede 

Of al his travaile, and his goode chere, 

And that him Hste his friendship hir to bede; 

And she accepteth it in good manere, 

And wolde do fayn that is him leef and dere; 

And trusten him she wolde, and wel she mighte, 

As seyde she, and from hir hors she alighte. 

Hir fader hath hir in his armes nome, 
And twenty tyme he kiste his doughter swete. 
And seyde, ''O dere doughter myn, wel-come!" 
She seyde eek she was fayn with him to mete, 
And stood forth mewet, milde, and mansuete. 
But heer I leve hir with hir fader dwelle, 
And forth I wol of Troilus yow telle. 

To Troie is come this woful Troilus, 
In sorwe aboven alle sorwes smerte. 
With felon look and face dispitous. 
Tho sodeinly doun fro his hors he sterte. 
And thorugh his paleys with a swollen herte 
To chambre he wente. Of no-thing took he hede, 
Ne noon to him dar speke a word for drede. 

Sk., V, 169-203 



228 CHAUCER v. 190-224 

And ther his sorwes that he spared hadde 
He yaf an issu large, and "Deeth!" he cryde; 
And in his throwes frenetyk and madde 
He cursede love, Appollo, and eek Cupyde, 
He cursed? Ceres, Bacus, and Cipryde, 
His burthe, him-self , his fate, and eek nature, 
And save his lady every creature. 

And rewen on him-self so pitously 
That wonder was to here his fantasye. 
Another tyme he sholde mightily 
Conforte him-self, and seyn it was folye 
So causeles swich drede for to drye. 
And eft biginne his aspre sorwes newe 
That every man mighte on his sorwes rewe. 

On hevene yet the sterres were sene, 
Al-though ful pale y-waxen was the mone, 
And whyten gan the orisonte shene 
Al estward as it wonted is to done, 
And Phebus with his rosy carte sone 
Gan after that to dresse him up to fare, 
Whan Troilus hath sent after Pandare. 

This Pandare, that of al the day biforn 
Ne mighte have comen Troilus to see, 
Al-though he on his heed it had y-sworn. 
For with the King Pryam alday was he 
So that it lay not in his libertee 
No-wher to gon, but on the morwe he wente 
To Troilus whan that he for him sente. 

"My Pandarus," quod Troilus, "the sorwe 
Which that I drye, I may not longe endure. 
I trowe I shal not liven til to-morwe. 
For which I wolde alwey, on aventure, 
To thee devysen of my sepulture 
The forme, and of my moeble thou dispone 
Right as thee semeth best is for to done. 

Sk.. V, 204-210; 260-266; 274-287; 295 301 



V. 225-259 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 229 

''But of the fyr and flaumbe funeral 

In which my body brenne shal to glede, 

And of the feste and pleyes palestra! 

At my vigile, I praye thee take good hede 

That al be wel; and off re Mars my stede, 

My swerd, myn helm, and, leve brother dere, 

My sheld to Pallas yef, that shyneth clere. 

''The poudre in which myn herte y-brend shal tome, 

That preye I thee thou take and it conserve 

In a vessel that men clepe an ume 

Of gold, and to my lady that I serve, 

For love of whom thus pitously I sterve, 

So yef it hir, and do me this plesaunce 

To preye hir kepe it for a remembraunce." 

Pandare answerde, and seyde, "Troilus, 
My dere freend, as I have told thee yore 
That it is folye for to sorwen thus 
And causeles, for which I can no-more. 
But who-so wol not trowen reed ne lore, 
I can not seen in him no remedye, 
But lat him worthen with his fantasye. 

"But Troilus, I pray thee, telle me now 

If that thou trowe er this that any wight 

Hath loved paramours as wel as thou? 

Ye, God wot, and fro many a worthy knight 

Hath his lady goon a fourtenight 

And he not yet made halvendel the fare. 

What nede is thee to maken al this care? 

" For which with al myn herte I thee biseche 
Un-to thy-self that al this thou foryive; 
And rys up now with-oute more speche, 
And lat us caste how forth may best be drive 
This tyme, and eek how freshly we may live 
Whan that she cometh, the which shal be right sone: 
God helpe me so, the beste is thus to done." 

Sk., V, 302-315; 323-336; 386-392 



230 CHAUCER v. 260-294 

This Troilus answerde, "O brother dere, 
This knowen folk that han y-suffred peyne, 
That though he wepe and make sorwful chere, 
That feleth harm and smert in every veyne, 
No wonder is; and though I evere pleyne 
Or alwey wepe, I am no-thing to blame, 
Sin I have lost the cause of al my game. 

" But sin of fyne force I moot aryse, 

I shal aryse as sone as evere I may; 

And God, to whom myn herte I sacrifyse, 

So sende us hastely the tenthe day! 

For was ther nevere fowl so fayn of May 

As I shal been whan that she cometh in Troye 

That cause is of my torment and my loye. 

''But whider is thy reed," quod Troilus, 
"That we may pleye us best in al this toun?" 
"By God, my conseil is," quod Pandarus, 
"To ryde and pleye us with King Sarpedoun." 
So longe of this they speken up and doun. 
Til Troilus gan at the laste assente 
To ryse, and forth to Sarpedoun they wente. 

Thus Pandarus with alle peyne and wo 
Made him to dwelle, and at the woukes ende 
Of Sarpedoun they toke hir leve tho, 
And on hir wey they spedden hem to wende. 
Quod Troilus, "Now God me grace sende 
That I may finden at myn hom-cominge 
Criseyde comen!" and ther- with gan he singe. 

"Ye, hasel-wode!" thoughte this Pandare, 
And to him-self ful softely he seyde, 
"God woot, refreyden may this hote fare 
Er Calkas sendeTTroilus Criseyde!" 
But natheles he laped thus and seyde 
And swor, y-wis, his herte him wel bihighte 
She wolde come as sone as evere she mighte. 

Sk., V, 414-434; 498-511 



V. 295-329 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 231 

Whan they un-to the paleys were y-comen 

Of Troilus, they doun of hors ahghte, 

And to the chambre hir wey than han they nomen. 

And in-to tyme that it gan to nighte, 

They spaken of Criseyde the brighte. 

And after this, whan that hem bothe leste, 

They spedde hem fro the soper un-to reste. 

On morwe, as sone as day bigan to clere, 
This Troilus gan of his sleep tabreyde, 
And to Pandare, his owene brother dere, 
"For love of God," ful pitously he seyde, 
''As go we seen the paleys of Criseyde; 
For sin we yet may have namore feste, 
So lat us seen hir paleys at the leste." 

And ther-with-al, his meyne for to blende, 

A cause he fond in toune for to go, 

And to Criseydes hous they gonnen wende. 

But Lord! this sely Troilus was wo! 

Him thoughte his sorweful herte braste a- two; 

For whan he saugh hir dores sperred alle, 

Wei neigh for sorwe a-doun he gan to falle. 

Therwith whan he was war and gan biholde 
How shet was every windowe of the place. 
As frost, him thoughte, his herte gan to colde; 
For which with chaunged deedlich pale face, 
With-outen word, he forth bigan to pace. 
And as God wolde, he gan so faste ryde 
That no wight of his contenaunce aspyde. 

Than seyde he thus, ''O paleys desolat, 

O hous of houses whylom best y-hight, 

O paleys empty and disconsolat, 

O thou lanterne of which queynt is the light, 

O paleys whylom day that now art night, 

Wei oughtestow to falle and I to dye. 

Sin she is went that wont was us to gye!" 

Sk.. V. 512-546 



232 CHAUCER v, 330-364 

Ther-with he caste on Pandarus his ye 
With chaunged face, and pitous to biholde. 
And whan he mighte his tyme aright aspye, 
Ay as he rood to Pandarus he tolde 
His newe sorwe, and eek his loyes olde, 
So pitously and with so dede an hewe, 
That every wight mighte on his sorwe rewe. 

Fro thennesforth he rydeth up and doun, 
And every thing com him to remembraunce 
As he rood forth by places of the toun 
In which he whylom had al his plesaunce. 
"Lo, yond saugh I myn owene lady daunce, 
And in that temple with hir eyen clere 
Me caughte first my righte lady dere. 



I 



''And yonder have I herd ful lustily 

My dere herte laughe, and yonder pleye 

Saugh I hir ones eek ful blisfully. 

And yonder ones to me gan she seye, ', 

'Now goode swete, love me wel, I preyel' | 

And yond so goodly gan she me biholde 

That to the deeth myn herte is to hir holde." 

Than thoughte he thus, "O blisful lord Cupyde, , 
Whan I the proces have in my memorie '| 

How thou me hast werreyed on every syde, ^ 

Men mighte a book ma£e of it, lyk a storie. 
What nede is thee to seke on me victorie, 
Sin I am thyn, and hoolly at thy wille? 
What loye hastow thyn owene folk to spille? 

"Wel hastow, lord, y-wroke on me thyn ire, 
Thou mighty god, and dredful for to greve! 
Now mercy, lord, thou wost wel I desire 
Thy grace most, of alle lustes leve. 
And live and deye I wol in thy bileve, 
For which I naxe in guerdon but a bone, 
That thou Criseyde ayein me sende sone." 

Sk., V, 554-574; 582-595 



i 



V.365-3Q9 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 233 

And after this he to the ya-tes wente 
Ther-as Criseyde out-rood a ful good paas, 
And up and doun ther made he many a wente, 
And to him-self ful ofte he seyde '^ Alias! 
From hennes rood my blisse and my solas! 
As wolde blisful God now for his loye 
I mighte hir seen ayein come in-to Troye." 

Upon the walks faste eek wolde he walke, 
And on the Grekes ost he wolde see, 
And to him-self right thus he wolde talke, 
"Lo, yonder is myn owene lady free, 
Or elles yonder ther tho tentes be! 
And thennes comth this eyr^ that is so sote 
That in my soule I fele it doth me bote.'' 

This longe tyme he dryveth forth right thus, 
Til fully passed was the nynthe night; 
And ay bi-syde him was this Pandarus, 
That bisily did al his fulle might 
Him to comforte and make his herte light, 
Yeving him hope alwey, the tenthe morwe 
That she shal come and stinten al his sorwe. 

Up-on that other syde eek was Criseyde 
With wommen fewe among the Grekes stronge. 
For which ful ofte a day "Alias!" she seyde, 
"That I was born! Wei may myn herte longe 
After my deeth; for now live I to longe! 
Alias! and I ne may it not amende, 
For now is wors than evere yet I wende. 

" My fader nil for no-thing do me grace 

To goon ayein, for nought I can him queme; 

And if so be that I my terme passe. 

My Troilus shal in his herte deme 

That I am fals, and so it may wel seme. 

Thus shal I have unthank on every syde. 

That I was born, so welawey the tyde! 

, V, 603-609; 666-672; 680-700 



234 CHAUCER v. 400-434 

"And if that I me putte in lupartye 
To stele awey by night, and it bifalle 
That I be caught, I shal be holde a spye; 
Or elles, — lo, this drede I most of alle, — 
If in the hondes of som wrecche I falle, 
I am but lost, al be myn herte trewe. 
Now mighty God, thou on my sorwe rewe!'* 

Ful pale y-waxen was hir brighte face, 

Hir limes lene, as she that al the day 

Stood whan she dorste and loked on the place 

Ther she was born and ther she dwelte had ay. 

And al the night weping, alias! she lay. 

And thus despeired, out of alle cure. 

She ladde hir lyf, this woful creature. 

Ful ofte a day she sighte eek for destresse, 
And in hir-self she wente ay portrayinge 
Of Troilus the grete worthinesse. 
And alle his goodly wordes recordinge 
Sin first that day hir love bigan to springe. 
And thus she sette hir woful herte a-fyre 
Thorugh remembraunce of that she gan desyre. 

Ful rewfully she loked up-on Troye, 
Biheld the toures heighe and eek the halles. 
"Alias!" quod she, "the plesaunce and the loye, 
The which that now al torned in-to galle is. 
Have I had ofte with-inne yonder walles! 
O Troilus, what dostow now?" she seyde. 
"Lord! whether yet thou thenke up-on Criseyde? 



I 



"Alias! I ne hadde trowed on your lore 

And went with yow, as ye me radde er this! 

Than hadde I now not syked half so sore. 

Who mighte have seyd that I had doon a-mis 

To stele awey with swich on as he is? 

But al to late cometh the letuarie I 

Whan men the cors un-to the grave carie. 

Sk.,V, 701-721; 729-742 



V. 435-469 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 235 

''But natheles, bityde what bityde, 

I shal to-morwe at night, by est or west, 

Out of this ost stele on som maner syde, 

And go with Troilus wher-as him lest. 

This purpos wol I holde, and this is best. 

No fors of wikked tonges langlerye, 

For evere on love han wrecches had envye. 

"For which, with-outen any wordes mo, 

To Troye I wol, as for conclusioun." 

But God it wot, er fully monthes two, 

She was ful fer fro that entencioun. 

For bothe Troilus and Troye toun 

Shal knotteles through-oute hir herte slyde; 

For she wol take a purpos for tabyde. 

This Diomede, of whom yow telle I gan, 
Goth now with-in him-self ay arguinge 
With al the sleighte and al that evere he can 
How he may best with shortest taryinge 
In-to his net Criseydes herte bringe. 
To this entente he coude nevere fyne; 
To fisshen hir he leyde out hook and lyne. 

But natheles wel in his herte he thoughte 

That she nas nat with-oute a love in Troye. 

For nevere sithen he hir thennes broughte 

Ne coude he seen her laughe or make loye. 

He niste ho\y best hir herte for tacq^^e. 

"But for to assaye," he seyde, "it nought ne greveth; 

For he that nought assayeth nought nacheveth." 

Yet seide he to him-self upon a night, 
" Now am I not a fool, that woot wel how 
Hir wo for love is of another wight. 
And heer-up-on to goon assaye hir now? 
I may wel wite, it nil not been my prow. 
For wyse folk in bokes it expresse, 
'Men shal not wowe a wight in hevinesse.' 

Sk., V, 750-756; 764-791 



236 CHAUCER v. 47o-504 

" But who-so mighte winnen swich a flour 
From him for whom she morneth night and day, 
He mighte seyn he were a conquerour." 
And right anoon, as he that bold was ay, 
Thoughte in his herte, "Happe how happe may, 
Al sholde I deye, I wol hir herte seche. 
I shal no more lesen but my speche." 

This Diomede, as bokes us declare, 
Was in his nedes prest and corageous, 
With Sterne voys and mighty limes square. 
Hardy, testif, strong, and chevalrous 
Of dedes, lyk his fader Tideus, 
And som men seyn he was of tunge large; 
And heir he was of Calidoine and Arge. 

Criseyde mene was of hir stature, 
Ther-to of shap, of face, and eek of chere, 
Ther mighte been no fairer creature. 
And ofte tyme this was hir manere. 
To gon y-tressed with hir heres clere 
Doun by hir coler at hir bak bihinde. 
Which with a threed of gold she wolde binde. 

And save hir browes loyneden y-fere, 
Ther nas no lak in ought I can espyen. 
But for to speken of hir eyen clere, 
Lo, trewely, they writen that hir syen 
That Paradys stood formed in hir yen. 
And with hir riche beautee evere-more 
Strof love in hir ay which of hem was more. 

She sobre was, eek simple and wys with-al, 
The best y-norisshed eek that mighte be, 
And goodly of hir speche in general. 
Charitable, estatlich, lusty, and free; 
Ne nevere-mo ne lakkede hir pitee; 
Tendre-herted, slyding of corage; 
But trewely I can not telle hir age. 

Sk., V, 792-826 



;o5-539 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 237 

But for to tellen forth of Diomede: — 

It fil that after on the tenthe day 

Sin that Criseyde out of the citee yede, 

This Diomede, as fresshe as braunche in May, 

Com to the tente ther-as Calkas lay, 

And feyned him with Calkas han to done; 

But what he mente I shal yow telle sone. 

Criseyde, at shorte wordes for to telle, 
Welcomed him, and doun by hir him sette; 
And he was ethe y-nough to maken dwelle. 
And after this with-outen longe lette 
The spyces and the wyn men forth hem fette; 
And forth they speke of this and that y-fere, 
As freendes doon, of which som ye shal here. 

He gan first fallen of the werre in speche 

Bitwixe hem and the folk of Troye toun; 

And of thassege he gan hir eek byseche 

To telle him what was hir opinoun. 

Fro that demaunde he so descendeth doun 

To asken hir if that hir straunge thoughte 

The Grekes gyse, and werkes that they wroughte; 

And why hir fader tarieth so longe 
To wedden hir un-to som worthy wight. 
Criseyde, that was in hir peynes stronge 
For love of Troilus, hir owene knight, 
As ferforth as she conning had or might, 
Answerde him tho; but as of his entente, 
It semed not she wiste what he mente. 

But natheles, this ilke Diomede 
Gan in him-self assure, and thus he seyde: 
"If ich aright have taken of yow hede. 
Me thinketh thus, O lady myn, Criseyde, 
That sin I first hond on your brydel leyde, 
Whan ye oute come of Troye by the morwe, 
Ne coude I nevere seen yow but in sorwe. 

V, 841-875 



238 CHAUCER v. 540-574 

" Can I not seyn what may the cause be 

But-if for love of som Troyan it were, 

The which right sore wolde athinken me 

That ye for any wight that dwelleth there 

Sholden spille a quarter of a tere, . 

Or pitously your-selven so bigyle. 

For dredelees, it is nought worth the whyle. 

"The folk of Troye, as who seyth, alle and some 

In preson been, as ye your-selven see; 

For thennes shal not oon on-lyve come 

For al the gold bitwixen sonne and see. 

For trusteth wel, and understondeth me, 

Ther shal not oon to mercy goon on-lyve, 

Al were he lord of worldes twyes fyve! 

''Swich wreche on hem for fecching of Eleyne 
Ther shal be take, er that we hennes wende. 
That Manes, which that goddes ben of peyne, 
Shal been agast that Grekes wol hem shende. 
And men shul drede, un-to the worldes ende. 
From hennes-forth to ravisshe any queue. 
So cruel shal our wreche on hem be sene. 

''And but-if Calkas lede us with ambages, 
That is to seyn, with double wordes slye, 
Swich as men clepe a 'word with two visages,' 
Ye shul wel knowen that I nought ne lye, 
And al this thing right seen it with your ye, 
And that anoon, ye nil not trowe how sone. 
Now taketh hede, for it is for to done. 

"What wene ye your wyse fader wolde 
Han yeven Antenor for yow anoon. 
If he ne wiste that the citee sholde 
Destroyed been? Why nay, so mote I goon! 
He knew ful wel ther shal not scapen oon 
That Troyan is; and for the grete fere 
He dorste not ye dwelte lenger there. 

Sk., v. 876-910 



V. 575-609 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 239 

''What wole ye more, lufsom lady dere? 

Lat Troye and Troyan fro your herte pace! 

Dryf oute that bittre hope and make good chere, 

And clepe ayein the beautee of your face 

That ye with salte teres so deface. 

For Troye is brought in swich a lupartye 

That, it to save, is now no remedye. 

"And thenketh wel, ye shal in Grekes finde 
A more parfit love er it be night 
Than any Troyan is, and more kinde. 
And bet to serven yow wol doon his might. 
And if ye vouche sauf, my lady bright, 
I wol ben he to serven yow my-selve. 
Ye, lever than be lord of Greces twelve!" 

And with that word he gan to waxen reed, 
And in his speche a htel wight he quook. 
And caste a-syde a litel wight his heed. 
And stinte a whyle; and afterward awook. 
And sobreliche on hir he threw his look. 
And seyde, "I am, al be it yow no loye. 
As gentil man as any wight in Troye. 

"For if my fader Tydeus," he seyde, 
"Y-lived had, I hadde been er this 
Of Calidoine and Arge a king, Criseyde! 
And so hope I that I shal yet, y-wis. 
But he was slayn, alias! the more harm is, 
Unhappily at Thebes al to rathe, 
Polymites and many a man to scathe. 

*' But herte myn, sin that I am your man. 
And been the ferste of whom I seche grace 
To serven you as hertely as I can 
And evere shal, whyl I to live hav? space, 
So, er that I departe out of this place, 
Ye wol me graunte that I may to-morwe 
At bettre leyser telle yow my sorwe." 

Sk.,V, 911-945 



240 CHAUCER v.6ia-644 

What sholde I telle his wordes that he seyde? 
He spak y-now for o day at the meste. 
It preveth wel he spak so that Criseyde 
Graunted, on the morwe, at his requeste 
For to speken with him at the leste, 
So that he nolde speke of swich matere; 
And thus to him she seyde, as ye may here, 

As she that had hir herte on Troilus 
So faste that ther may it noon arace; 
And straungely she spak, and seyde thus: 
''O Diomede, I love that ilke place 
Ther I was born; and loves, for his grace, 
Delivere it sone of al that doth it care! 
God, for thy might, so leve it wel to fare! 

"That Grekes wolde hir wrath the on Troye wreke, 

If that they mighte, I knowe it wel, y-wis; 

But it shal not bifallen as ye speke. 

And God to-forn, and ferther over this, 

I wot my fader wys and redy is; 

And that he me hath bought, as ye me tolde, 

So dere, I am the more un-to him holde. 

''That Grekes been of heigh condicioun, 
I woot eek wel. But certein, men shal finde 
As worthy folk with-inne Troye toun, 
As conning, and as parfit, and as kinde, 
As been bitwixen Orcades and Inde. 
And that ye coude wel your lady serve, 
I trowe eek wel, hir thank for to deserve. 

"But as to speke of love, y-wis," she seyde, 

"I had a lord to whom I wedded was. 

The whos myn herte al was til that he deyde. 

And other love, as helpe me now Pallas, 

Ther in myn herte nis, ne nevere was. 

And that ye been of noble and heigh kinrede, 



I have wel herd it tellen, out of drede. 



Sk., V, 946-980 



45-679 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 241 

"And that doth me to han so gret a wonder, 
That ye wol scornen any womman so. 
Eek, God wot, love and I be fer a-sonder; 
I am disposed bet, so mote I go, 
Un-to my deeth, to pleyne and maken wo. 
What I shal after doon, I can not seye, 
But trewely as yet me Hst not pleye. 

*'To-morwe eek wol I speke with yow fayn, 
So that ye touchen nought of this matere. 
And whan yow list, ye may come heer ayein. 
And er ye gon, thus muche I seye yow here: 
As helpe me Pallas with hir heres clere. 
If that I sholde of any Greek han routhe, 
It sholde be your-selven, by my trouthe! 

''I sey not therfore that I wol yow love, 
Ne I sey not nay, but in conclusioun, 
I mene wel, by God that sit above!" 
And ther-with-al she caste hir eyen doun. 
And gan to syke, and seyde, "O Troye toun, 
Yet bidde I God, in quiete and in reste 
I may yow seen, or do myn herte breste." 

But in effect, and shortly for to seye, 

This Diomede al freshly newe ayeyn 

Gan pressen on, and faste hir mercy preye; 

And after this, the sothe for to seyn, 

Hir glove he took, of which he was ful fayn.' 

And fynally whan it was waxen eve 

And al was wel, he roos and took his leve. 

The brighte Venus folwede and ay taughte 
The wey ther brode Phebus doun alighte; 
And Cynthea hir char-hors over-raughte 
To whirle out of the Lyon, if she mighte; 
And Signifer his candeles shewed brighte 
Whan that Criseyde un-to hir bedde wente 
In-with hir fadres faire brighte tente. 

V, 981-987; 995-1022 



242 CHAUCER v. 680-714 

Retorning in hir soule ay up and doun 
The wordes of this sodein Diomede, 
His greet estat, and peril of the toun, 
And that she was allone and hadde nede 
Of freendes help; and thus bigan to brede 
The cause why, the sothe for to telle, 
That she tok fully purpos for to dwelle. 

The morwe com, and goostly for to speke, 
This Diomede is come un-to Criseyde, 
And shortly, lest that ye my tale breke, 
So wel he for him-selve spak and seyde, 
That alle hir sykes sore adoun he leyde. 
And fynally, the sothe for to seyne. 
He refte hir of the grete of al hir peyne. 

And after this, the storye telleth us 
That she him yaf the faire baye stede, 
The which she ones wan of Troilus; 
And eek a brooch (and that was litel nede) 
That Troilus was, she yaf this Diomede. 
And eek the bet from sorwe him to releve, 
She made him were a pencel of hir sieve. 

I finde eek in the stories elles-where, 
Whan through the body hurt was Diomede 
Of Troilus, tho weep she many a tere 
Whan that she saugh his wyde woundes blede; 
And that she took to kepen him good hede, 
And for to hele him of his sorwes smerte. 
Men seyn — I not — that she yaf him hir herte. 

But trewely the storye telleth us 

Ther made nevere womman more wo 

Than she whan that she falsed Troilus. 

She seyde, "Alias! for now is clene a-go 

My name of trouthe in love for evere-mo! 

For I have falsed oon the gentileste 

That evere was, and oon the worthieste! ' 

Sk., V, 1023-1057 



V. 715-749 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 243 

"Alias! of me un-to the worldes ende 

Shal neither been y-writen nor y-songe 

No good word, for thise bokes wol me shende. 

O, rolled shal I been on many a tonge, 

Through-oute the world my belle shal be ronge, 

And wommen most wol hate me of alle! 

Alias, that swich a cas me sholde falle! 

"They wol seyn, in as muche as in me is, 
I have hem don dishonour, weylawey! 
Al be I not the firste that did amis. 
What helpeth that to do my blame awey? 
But sin I see ther is no bettre way, 
And that to late is now for me to rewe, 
To Diomede algate I wol be trewe. 

"But Troilus, sin I no bettre may, 

And sin that thus departen ye and I, 

Yet preye I God so yeve yow right good day 

As for the gentileste, trewely. 

That evere I say to serven feithfully. 

And best can ay his lady honour kepe:" 

And with that word she braste anon to wepe. 

But trewely, how longe it was bitwene 
That she for-sook him for this Diomede, 
Ther is non auctor telleth it, I wene. 
Take every man now to his bokes hede; 
He shal no terme finden, out of drede. 
For though that he bigan to wowe hir sone, 
Er he hir wan yet was ther more to done. 

Ne me ne Hst this sely womman chyde 
Ferther than the story^ wol devyse. 
Hir name, alias! is publisshed so wyde 
That for hir gilt it oughte y-now suffyse. 
And if I mighte excuse hir any wyse, 
For she so sory was for hir untrouthe, 
Y-wis, I wolde excuse hir yet for routhe. 

Sk., V, 1058-1078; 1086-1099 



244 CHAUCER v. 750-784 

This Troilus, as I biforn have told, 

Thus dryveth forth as wel as he hath might. 

But often was his herte hoot and cold, 

And namely that ilke nynthe night 

Which on the morwe she hadde him byhight 

To come ayein. God wot, ful litel reste 

Had he that night; no- thing to slepe him leste. 

The laurer-crouned Phebus with his hete 
Gan in his cours ay upward as he wente 
To warmen of the est see the wawes wete; 
And Nisus doughter song with freshe entente, 
Whan Troilus his Pandare after sente. 
And on the walles of the toun they pleyde 
To loke if they can seen ought of Criseyde. 

Til it was noon they stoden for to see 
Who that ther come; and every maner wight 
That cam fro fer, they seyden it was she 
Til that they coude knowen him a-right. 
Now was his herte dul, now was it light. 
And thus by-iaped stonden for to stare 
Aboute nought, this Troilus and Pandare. 

To Pandarus this Troilus tho seyde, 

''For ought I wot, bi-fore noon sikerly 

In-to this toun ne comth nought heer Criseyde. 

She hath y-now to done, hardily. 

To winnen from hir fader, so trowe I. 

Hir olde fader wol yet make hir dyne 

Er that she go, God yeve his herte pyne!" 

Pandare answerde, ''It may wel be, certeyn. 
And for-thy lat us dyne, I thee biseche. 
And after noon than mayst thou come ayeyn." 
And hoom they go, with-oute more speche; 
And comen ayein, but longe may they seche 
Er that they finde that they after cape. 
Fortune hem bothe thenketh for to lape. 

Sk., V, 1100-1134 



V. 785-819 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 245 

Quod Troilus, "I see wel now that she 

Is taried with hir olde fader so 

That er she come it wol neigh even be. 

Com forth, I wol un-to the yate go. 

Thise portours been unkonning evere-mo; 

And I wol doon hem holden up the yate 

As nought ne were, al- though she come late." 

The day goth faste, and after that comth eve, 
And yet com nought to Troilus Criseyde. 
He loketh forth by hegge, by tree, by greve, 
And fer his heed over the wal he leyde. 
And at the laste he torned him and seyde, 
''By God, I woot hir mening now, Pandare! 
Almost, y-wis, al newe was my care. 

"Now dou teles, this lady can hir good; 

I woot she meneth ryden prively. 

I comende hir wysdom, by myn hood! 

She wol not maken peple nycely 

Gaure on hir whan she comth; but softely 

By night in-to the toun she thenketh ryde. 

And, dere brother, thenk not longe to abyde. 

"We han nought elles for to don, y-wis. 

And Pandarus, now woltow trowen me? 

Have heer thy trouthe, I see hir! Yond she is! 

Have up thyn eyen, man! Maystow not see?" 

Pandare answerde, "Nay, so mote I thee! 

Al wrong, by God! What seystow, man, wher arte? 

That I see yond nis but a fare-carte." 

The wardein of the yates gan to calle 

The folk which that with-oute the yates were. 

And bad hem dryven in hir bestes alle, 

Or al the night they moste blyven there. 

And fer with-in the night, with many a tere 

This Troilus gan hoomward for to ryde; 

For wel he seeth it helpeth nought tabyde. 

Sk., V, 1135-1162; 1177-1183 



246 CHAUCER v. 820-854 

But natheles, he gladded him in this: 
He thoughte he misacounted had his day. 
And seyde, "I understonde have al a-mis; 
For thilke night I last Criseyde say, 
She seyde, ' I shal ben heer, if that I may, 
Er that the mone, O dere herte swete, 
The Lyon passe, out of this Ariete;' 

"For which she may yet holde al hir biheste." 
And on the morwe un-to the yate he wente. 
And up and down, by west and eek by este, 
Up-on the walles made he many a wente. 
But al for nought; his hope alwey him blente, 
For which at night, in sorwe and sykes sore, 
He wente him hoom, with-outen any more. 

The thridde, ferthe, fifte, sixte day 
After tho dayes ten, of which I tolde, 
Bitwixen hope and drede his herte lay. 
Yet som-what trusting on hir hestes olde. 
But whan he saugh she nolde hir terme holde, 
He can now seen non other remedye 
But for to shape him sone for to dye. 

Ther-with the wikked spirit, God us blesse, 
Which that men clepeth the w^de lalousye, 
Gan in him crepe in al this hevinesse; 
For which, by-cause he wolde sone dye. 
He ne eet ne dronk, for his malencolye. 
And eek from every companye he fiedde. 
This was the lyf that al the tyme he ledde. 

He so defet was that no maner man 
Unnethe mighte him knowe ther he wente; 
So was he lene, and ther-to pale and wan 
And feble that he walketh by potente. 
And with his ire he thus him-selven shente; 
And who-so axed him wher-of him smerte. 
He seyde, his harm was al aboute his herte. 

Sk., V, 1184-1197; 1205-1225 



V. 855-889 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 247 

Pryam ful ofte, and eek his moder dere, 

His bretheren and his sustren gonne him freyne 

Why he so sorwful was in al his chere, 

And what thing was the cause of al his peyne. 

But al for nought; he nolde his cause pleyne, 

But seyde he felte a grevous maladye 

A-boute his herte and fayn he wolde dye. 

So on a day he leyde him doun to slepe, 
And so bifel that in his sleep him thoughte 
That in a forest faste he welk to wepe 
For love of hir that him thes^ peynes wroughte. 
And up and doun as he the forest soughte, 
He mette he saugh a boor with tuskes grete 
That sleep ayein the brighte sonnes hete. 

And by this boor, faste in his armes folde, 
Lay kissing ay his lady bright Criseyde; 
For sorwe of which, whan he it gan biholde, 
And for despyt, out of his sleep he breyde, 
And loude he cryde on Pandarus, and seyde, 
''O Pandarus, now knowe I crop and rote! 
I nam but deed, ther nis non other bote! 

''My lady bright Criseyde hath me bitrayed, 
In whom I trusted most of any wight; 
She elles-wher hath now hir herte apayed. 
The blisful goddes through hir grete might 
Han in my dreem y-shewed it ful right. 
Thus in my dreem Criseyde I have biholde:" — 
And al this thing to Pandarus he tolde. 

Pandare answerde and seyde, "Alias the whyle 
That I was born! Have I not seyd er this 
That dremes many a maner man bigyle? 
And why? for folk expounden hem a-mis. 
How darstow seyn that fals thy lady is 
For any dreem, right for thyn owene drede? 
Lat be this thought, thou canst no dremes rede. 

Sk., V, 1226-1253; 1275-1281 



248 CHAUCER v. 890-924 

"Paraunter, ther thou dremest of this boor, 
It may so be that it may signifye «.- v 

Hir fader, which that old is and eek hoor, % ^ 
Ayein the sonne lyth on poynt to dye, 
And she for sorwe ginneth wepe and crye, 
And kisseth him ther he lyth on the grounder 
Thus shuldestow thy dreem a- right expounde." 

"How mighte I thanne do?" quod Troilus, 
"To knowe of this, ye, were it nevere so lyte?" 
"Now seystow wysly," quod this Pandarus; 
"My reed is this, sin thou canst wel endyte. 
That hastely a lettre thou hir wryte, 
Thorugh which thou shalt wel bringen it aboute 
To knowe a sooth of that thou art in doute. 

"And see now why: for this I dar wel seyn. 

That if so is that she untrewe be, 

I can not trowe that she wol wryte ayeyn. 

And if she wryte, thou shalt ful sone see 

As whether she hath any hbertee 

To come ayein, or elles in som clause. 

If she be let, she wol assigne a cause." 

Acorded been to this conclusioun. 

And that anoon, these ilke lordes two; 

And hastely sit Troilus adoun 

And rolleth in his herte to and fro 

How he may best discryven hir his wo. 

And to Criseyde, his owene lady dere. 

He wroot right thus, and seyde as ye may here: 

"Right fresshe flour, whos I have been and shal, 

With-outen part of elles-wher servyse, 

With herte, body, lyf, lust, thought, and al: 

I, woful wight, in every humble wyse 

That tonge telle or herte may devyse, 

As of te as matere occupyeth place. 

Me recomaunde un-to your noble grace. 

Sk., V, 1282-1302: 1310-1323 



-959 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 249 

"Lyketh it yow to witen, swete herte, 
As ye wel knowe how longe tyme agoon 
That ye me laf te in aspre peynes smerte 
Whan that ye wente, of which yet bote noon 
Have I noon had, but evere wers bigoon 
Fro day to day am I, and so mot dwelle 
Wliyl it yow Hst, of wele and wo my welle! 

"And if so be my gilt hath deeth deserved, 

Or if you Hst no more up-on me see, 

In guerdon yet of that I have yow served, 

Biseche I yow, myn hertes lady free, 

That heer-upon ye wolden wryte me. 

For love of God, my righte lode-sterre, 

Ther deeth may make an ende of al my werre; 

"If other cause aught doth yow for to dwelle. 

That with your lettre ye me recomforte. 

For though to me your absence is an helle. 

With pacience I wol my wo comporte. 

And with your lettre of hope I wol desporte. 

Now wryteth, swete, and lat me thus not pleyne: 

With hope or deeth delivereth me fro peyne. 

"Y-wis, myn owene dere herte trewe, 
I woot that whan ye next up-on me see. 
So lost have I myn hele and eek myn hewe, 
Criseyde shal nought conne knowe me! 
Y-wis, myn hertes day, my lady free, 
So thursteth ay myn herte to biholde 
Your beautee that my lyf unnethe I holde. 

Le vostre T." 

This lettre forth was sent un-to Criseyde, 
Of which hir answere in effect was this: 
Ful pitously she wroot ayein, and seyde 
That al-so sone as that she mighte, y-wis. 
She wolde come, and mende al that was mis. 
And fynally she wroot and seyde him thanne 
She wolde come, ye, but she niste whanne. 

1324-1330; 1387-1407, 1422-1428 



250 CHAUCER v 960-994 

But in hir lettre made she swich festes 

That wonder was, and swereth she loveth him best, 

Of which he fond but botmelees bihestes. 

But Troilus, thou mayst now est or west 

Pype in an ivy leef, if that thee lest: 

Thus gooth the world! God shilde us fro mischaunce, 

And every wight that meneth trouthe avaunce! 

Fortune, which that permutacioun 

Of thinges hath as it is hir committed 

Through purveyaunce and disposicioun 

Of heighe love, as regnes shal ben flitted 

Fro folk in folk, or whan they shal ben smitted, 

Gan pulle awey the fetheres brighte of Troye 

Fro day to day, til they ben bare of loye. 

Among al this, the fyn of the parodie 
Of Ector gan approchen wonder blyve; 
The fate wolde his soule sholde unbodie, 
And shapen had a mene it oute to dryve, 
Ayeins which fate him helpeth not to stryve. 
But on a day to fighten gan he wende, 
At which, alias! he caughte his lyves ende. 



I 



For whom, as olde bokes tellen us, 

Was mad swich wo that tonge it may not telle; 

And namely the sorwe of Troilus, 

That next him was of worthinesse welle. I 

And in this wo gan Troilus to dwelle, 

That, what for sorwe and love and for unreste, 

Ful of te a day he bad his herte breste. 

But natheles, though he gan him dispeyre, 

And dradde ay that his lady was untrewe, 

Yet ay on hir his herte gan repeyre. 

And as thes^ loveres doon, he sough te ay newe 

To gete ayein Criseyde, bright of hewe. 

And in his herte he wente hir excusinge 1 

That Calkas causede al hir taryinge. ^ 

Sk., V, 1429-1435; 1541-1554; 1562-1575 



V. 995-1029 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 251 

And ofte tyme he was in purpos grete 
Him-selven lyk a pilgrim to disgyse 
To seen hir; but he may not contrefete 
To been unknowen of folk that weren wyse, 
Ne finde excuse aright that may suffyse, 
If he among the Grekes knowen were; 
For which he weep ful ofte many a tere. 

To hir he wroot yet ofte tyme al newe 

Ful pitously, he lefte it nought for slouthe, 

Biseching hir that sin that he was trewe 

That she wolde come ayein and holde hir trouthe. 

For which Criseyde up-on a day for routhe, 

I take it so, touching al this matere, 

Wrot him ayein, and seyde as ye may here: 

" Cupydes sone, ensample of goodlihede, 

swerd of knighthod, sours of gentilesse! 
How mighte a wight in torment and in drede 
And helelees, yow sende as yet gladnesse? 

1 hertelees, I syk, I in distresse. 

Sin ye with me nor I with yow may dele, 
Yow neither sende ich herte may, nor hele. 

''Your lettres ful, the papir al y-pleynted, 
Conseyved hath myn hertes pietee; 
I have eek seyn with teres al depeynted 
Your lettre, and how that ye requeren me 
To come ayein, which yet ne may not be. 
But why, lest that this lettre founden were, 
No mencioun ne make I now for fere. 

''For I have herd wel more than I wende. 

Touching us two, how thinges han y-stonde. 

Which I shal with dissimuling amende. 

And — beth nought wrooth — I have eek understonde 

How ye ne doon but holden me in honde. 

But now no fors, I can not in yow gesse 

But alle trouthe and alle gentilesse. 

Sk., V, 1576-1603; 1611-1617 



252 CHAUCER v. 1030-1064 

" Comen I wol, but yet in swich disioynte 
I stonde as now, that what yeer or what day 
That this shal be, that can I not apoynte. 
But in effect, I prey yow, as I may, 
Of your good word and of your frendship ay. 
For trewely, whyl that my lyf may dure, 
As for a f reend ye may in me assure. 

La vostre C." 

This Troilus this lettre thoughte al straunge 

Whan he it saugh, and sorwefully he sighte. 

Him thoughte it lyk a kalendes of chaunge; 

But fynally he ful ne trowen mighte 

That she ne wolde him holden that she highte. 

For with ful yvel wille Hst him to leve 

That loveth wel, in swich cas, though him greve. 

Stood on a day in his malencolye 

This Troilus, and in suspecioun 

Of hir for whom he wende for to dye. 

And so bifel that through-oute Troye toun, 

As was the gyse, y-bore was up and doun 

A maner cote-armure, as seyth the storie, 

Biforn Deiphebe in signe of his victorie, 

The whiche cote, as telleth Lollius, 
Deiphebe it had y-rent from Diomede 
The same day. And whan this Troilus 
It saugh, he gan to taken of it hede, 
Avysing of the lengthe and of the brede, 
And al the werk. But as he gan biholde, 
Ful sodeinly his herte gan to colde, 

As he that on the coler fond with-inne 
A brooch, that he Criseyde yaf that morwe 
That she from Troye moste nedes twinne, 
In remembraunce of him and of his sorwe; 
And she him leyde ayein hir feyth to borwe 
To kepe it ay. But now ful wel he wiste 
His lady nas no lenger on to triste. 

Sk.. V. 1618-1624; 1632-1638; 1646-1666 



V. 1065-1099 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 253 

He gooth him hoom, and gan ful sone sende 

For Pandarus; and al this newe chaunce 

And of this brooch he tolde him word and ende, 

Compleyning of hir hertes variaunce, 

His longe love, his trouthe, and his penaunce. 

And after deeth, with-outen wordes more, 

Ful faste he cryde his reste him to restore. 

Than spak he thus: "O lady myn Criseyde, 
Wher is your feyth, and wher is your biheste? 
Wher is your love, wher is your trouthe? " he seyde. 
"Of Diomede have ye now al this feste! 
Alias! I wolde have trowed at the leste 
That, sin ye nolde in trouthe to me stonde. 
That ye thus nolde han holden me in honde! 

"O Pandare, that in dremes for to triste 
Me blamed hast, and wont art ofte up-breyde, 
Now maystow see thy-selve, if that thee liste, 
How trewe is now thy nece, bright Criseyde! 
In sondry formes, God it woot," he seyde, 
"' The goddes shewen bothe loye and tene 
In sleep, and by my dreem it is now sene. 

"And certaynly, with-oute more speche, 

From hennesforth, as ferforth as I may, 

Myn owene deeth in armes wol I seche. 

I recche not how sone be the day! 

But trewely, Criseyde, swete may, 

Whom I have ay with al my might y-served. 

That ye thus doon I have it nought deserved." 

This Pandarus that alle these thinges herde, 
And wiste wel he seyde a sooth of this. 
He nought a word ayein to him answerde; 
For sory of his frendes sorwe he is, 
And shamed, for his nece hath doon a-mis. 
And stant astoned of these causes tweye 
As stille as stoon: a word ne coude he seye. 

Sk., V, 1667-1680; 1709-1729 



254 CHAUCER v. 1100-1134 

But at the laste thus he spak, and seyde, 
"My brother dere, I may thee do no-more. 
What shulde I seyn? I hate, y-wis, Criseyde! 
And God wot, I wol hate hir everemore! 
And that thou me bisoughtest doon of yore, 
Having un-to myn honour ne my reste 
Right no reward I did al that thee leste. 

"If I did ought that mighte lyken thee, 
It is me leef. And of this treson now, 
God woot that it a sorwe is un-to me! 
And dredelees, for hertes ese of yow, 
Right fayn wolde I amende it, wiste I how. 
And fro this world, almighty God I preye 
DeHvere hir sone: I can no-more seye!" 

Gret was the sorwe and pleynte of Troilus; 

But forth hir cours Fortune ay gan to holde. 

Criseyde loveth the sone of Tydeus, 

And Troilus mot wepe in cares colde. 

Swich is this world; who-so it can biholde, 

In ech estat is litel hertes reste. 

God leve us for to take it for the beste! 

In many cruel batayle, out of drede, 

Of Troilus, this ilke worthy knight, 

As men may in these olde bokes rede. 

Was sene his knighthod and his grete might. 

And dredelees, his ire day and night 

Ful cruelly the Grekes ay aboughte; 

And alwey most this Diomede he soughte. 

And ofte tyme I finde that they mette 
With blody strokes and with wordes grete, 
Assaying how hir speres weren whette; 
And God it woot, with many a cruel hete 
Gan Troilus upon his helm to-bete. 
But natheles. Fortune it nought ne wolde, 
Of otheres hond that either deyen sholde. 

Sk., V, 1730-1764 



V, 1135-1169 TROILUS AND CRISEYDE 255 

The wraththe, as I began yow for to seye, 
Of Troilus, the Grekes bough ten dere; 
For thousandes his hondes maden deye, 
As he that was with-outen any pere, 
Save Ector in his tyme, as I can here. 
But weylaway, save only Goddes wille, 
Dispitously him slough the fiers Achilla. 

And whan that he was slayn in this manere, 

His lighte goost ful blisfully is went 

Up to the holownesse of the seventh spare, 

In convers leting every element; 

And ther he saugh with ful avysement 

The erratik sterres, herkening armonye 

With sounes fulle of hevenish melodye. 

And doun from thennes faste he gan avyse 
This Htel spot of erthe, that with the see 
Embraced is, and fully gan despyse 
This wrecched world, and held al vanitea 
To respect of the pleyn falicitee 
That is in hevene above; and at the laste, 
Ther he was slayn, his loking doun he casta. 

And in him-self he lough right at the wo 
Of hem that wepten for his deeth so faste; 
And dampned al our werk that folweth so 
The blinde lust, the which that may not lasta, 
And sholden al our herte on hevene caste, 
And forth he wente, shortly for to telle, 
Ther as Mercurie sorted him to dwelle. — 

Swich fyn hath, lo, this Troilus for love, 

Swich fyn hath al his grete worthinesse, 

Swich fyn hath his estat real above, 

Swich fyn his lust, swich fyn hath his noblesse, 

Swich fyn hath false worldes brotelnesse. 

And thus bigan his loving of Criseyde, 

As I hav^ told, and in this wyse he deyde. 

Sk.. v. 1800-1834 



256 CHAUCER v. 1170-1204 

O yonge fresshe folkes, he or she, 

In which that love up groweth with your age, 

Repeyreth hoom from worldly vanitee. 

And of your herte up-casteth the visage 

To thilke God that after his image 

Yow made, and thinketh al nis but a fayre 

This world, that passeth sone as floures fayre. 

And loveth him, the which that right for love 
Upon a cros, our soules for to beye, 
First starf, and roos, and sit in hevene a-bove; 
For he nil falsen no wight, dar I seye, 
That wol his herte al hoolly on him leye. 
And sin he best to love is, and most meke, 
What nedeth feyned loves for to seke? 

Lo heer, of Payens corsed olde rytes, 
Lo heer, what alle hir goddes may availle, 
Lo heer, these wrecched worldes appetytes, 
Lo heer, the fyn and guerdon for travaille 
Of love, Appollo, of Mars, of swich rascaille! 
Lo heer, the forme of olde clerkes speche 
In poetrye, if ye hir bokes seche! — 

O moral Gower, this book I directe 

To thee, and to the philosophical Strode, 

To vouchen sauf, ther nede is, to corecte. 

Of your benignitees and zeles gode. 

And to that sothfast Crist, that starf on rode, 

With al myn herte of mercy evere I preye; 

And to the Lord right thus I speke and seye: 

Thou oon, and two, and three, eterne on-lyve, 

That regnest ay in three and two and oon, 

Uncircumscript, and al mayst circumscryve, 

Us from visible and invisible foon 

Defende. And to thy mercy, everichoon, 

So make us, lesus, for thy grace digne. 

For love of mayde and moder thyn benigne! Amen. 

Explicit Liber Troili et Criseydis. 

Sk., V, 1835-1869 



CHAUCER'S WORDES UNTO ADAM, HIS 
OWNE SCRIVEYN 

Adam scriveyn, if evere it thee bifalle 

Boece or Troilus to wryten newe, 

Under thy longe lokkes thou most have the scalle 

But after my making thou wryte trewe. 

So of te a daye I mot thy werk renewe, 

Hit to correcte and eek to rubbe and scrape: 

And al is through thy neghgence and rape. 



BALADE FROM THE LEGENDE OF GOOD 
WOMEN 

Hyd, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere; 
Ester, ley^ thou thy meknesse al a-doun; 
Hyd, lonathas, al thy frendly manere; 
Penalopee, and Marcia Catoun, 
Make of your wyfhod no comparisoun; 
Hyde ye your beautes, Isoude and Eleyne, 
My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne. 

Thy faire body, lat hit nat appere, 

Lavyne; and thou, Lucresse of Rome toun. 

And Polixene, that boghten love so dere, 

And Cleopatre, with al thy passioun, 

Hyde ye your trouthe of love and your renoun; 

And thou, Tisbe, that hast of love swich peyne; 

My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne. 

Herro, Dido, Laudomia, alle y-fere, 

And Phyllis, hanging for thy Demophoun, 

And Canace, espyed by thy chere, 

Ysiphile, betraysed with lasoun, 

Maketh of your trouthe nayther boost ne soun; 

Nor Ypermistre or Adriane, ye tweyne; 

My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne. 

Sk., L. G. W., Pro. B, 249-269 



TROUTHE 

Balade de bon conseyl 

Flee fro the prees, and dwell with sothfastnesse, 
Suffyce unto thy good, though hit be smal ; 
For hord hath hate, and climbing tikelnesse, 
Frees hath envye, and wele blent overal. 
Savour no more than thee bihove shal; 
Werk wel thy-self, that other folk canst rede; 
And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede. 

Tempeste thee noght al croked to redresse, 
In trust of hir that turneth as a bal: 
Gret reste stant in litel besinesse; 
And eek be war to sporne ageyn an al; 
Stryve noght as doth the crokke with the wal. 
Daunte thy-self, that dauntest otheres dede; 
And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede. 

That thee is sent, receyve in buxumnesse, 

The wrastling for this world axeth a fal. 

Her nis non hoom, her nis but wildernesse: 

Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beste, out of thy stal! 

Know thy con tree, loke up, thank God of al; 

Hold the hye wey, and lat thy gost thee lede: 

And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede. 

Envoy 

Therfore, thou Vache, leve thyn old wrecchednesse 

Unto the world; leve now to be thral; 

Crye him mercy, that of his hy goodnesse 

Made thee of noght, and in especial 

Draw unto him, and praye in general 

For thee, and eek for other, hevenlich mede; 

And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede. 



LENVOY DE CHAUCER A SCOGAN 

To-broken been the statuts hye in hevene 

That creat were eternally to dure, 

Sith that I see the brighte goddes sevene 

Mow wepe and wayle, and passioun endure, 

As may in erthe a mortal creature. 

Alias, fro whennes may this thing procede? 

Of which errour I deye almost for drede. 

By word eterne whylom was hit shape 
That fro the fif te cercle in no manere 
Ne mighte a drope of teres doun escape. 
But now so wepeth Venus in hir spere 
That with hir teres she wol drenche us here. 
Alias, Scogan! this is for thyn offence! 
Thou causest this deluge of pestilence. 

Hast thou not seyd in blaspheme of this goddes, 
Through pryde, or through thy grete rakelnesse, 
Swich thing as in the lawe of love forbode is? 
That, for thy lady saw nat thy distresse, 
Therfore thou yave hir up at Michehnesse! 
Alias, Scogan! of olde folk ne yonge 
Was nevere erst Scogan blamed for his tonge! 

Thou drowe in scorn Cupyde eek to record 
Of thilke rebel word that thou hast spoken, 
For which he wol no lenger be thy lord. 
And, Scogan, thogh his bowe be nat broken, 
He wol nat with his arwes been y-wroken 
On thee, ne me, ne noon of our figure; 
We shul of him have neyther hurt ne cure. 

Now certes, frend, I drede of thyn unhappe, 
Lest for thy gilt the wreche of Love procede 
On alle hem that ben hore and rounde of shape 
That ben so lykly folk in lov§ to spede. 



LENVOY DE CHAUCER A SCOGAN 261 

Than shul we for our labour han no mede. 
But wel I wot thou wilt answere and seye: 
''Lo! olde Grisel Hst to ryme and pleye!" 

Nay, Scogan, sey not so, for I mexcuse, 
God helpe me so! in no rym, doutelees, 
Ne thinke I nevere of sleep to wake my muse, 
That rusteth in my shethe stille in pees. 
Whyl I was yong, I putte hir forth in prees, 
But al shal passe that men prose or ryme: 
Take every man his turn as for his tyme. 

Envoy 

Scogan, that knelest at the stremes heed 

Of grace, of alle honour and worthinesse. 

In thende of which streem I am dul as deed, 

Forgete in solitarie wildernesse: 

Yet Scogan, thenk on Tullius kindenesse; 

Minne thy frend ther it may fructifye! 

Far-wel, and loke thou nevere eft Lov^ defye! 



LENVOY DE CHAUCER A BUKTON 

The counseil of Chaucer touching Manage, which was 
sent to Bukton. 

My maister Bukton, whan of Crist our kinge 
Was axed what is trouthe or sothfastnesse, 
He nat a word answerde to that axinge. 
As who saith, ''No man is al trewe," I gesse. 
And therfore, thogh I highte to expresse 
The sorwe and wo that is in mariage, 
I dar not wryte of hit no wikkednesse 
Lest I my-self falle eft in swich dotage. 

I wol nat seyn how that hit is the cheyne 
Of Sathanas, on which he gnaweth evere, 
But I dar seyn, were he out of his peyne. 
As by his wille, he wolde be bounde nevere. 
But thilke doted fool that eft hath levere 
Y-cheyned be than out of prison crepe, 
God lete him nevere fro his wo dissevere, 
Ne no man him bewayle though he wepe. 

But yit, lest thou do worse, tak a wyf : 
Bet is to wedde than brenne in worse wyse. 
But thou shalt have sorwe on thy flesh thy lyf, 
And been thy wyves thral, as seyn these wyse, 
And if that holy writ may nat suffyse. 
Experience shal thee teche, so may happe. 
That thee were lever to be take in Fryse 
Than eft to falle of wedding in the trappe. 

Envoy 
This litel writ, proverbes, or figure, 
I sende you, tak keep of hit, I rede. 
Unwys is he that can no wele endure; 
If thou be siker, put thee nat in drede. 
The Wyf of Bathe I pray you that ye rede 
Of this matere that we have on honde. 
God graunte you your lyf frely to lede 
In fredom; for ful hard is to be bonde. 



THE COMPLEINTE OF CHAUCER TO HIS 
EMPTY PURS 

To you, my purs, and to non other wight 
- Compleyne I, for ye be my lady dere! 
I am so sory now that ye be Hght; 
For certes, but ye make me hevy chere, 
Me were as leef be leyd up-on my bere, 
For which un-to you mercy thus I crye: 
Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye! 

Now voucheth sauf this day or hit be night 
That I of you the bhsful soun may here, 
Or see your colour lyk the sonne bright 
That of yelownesse hadde nevere pere. 
Ye be my lyf, ye be myn hertes stere, 
Queue of comfort and of good companye: 
Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye! 

Now purs, that be to me my lyves light, 

And saveour, as doun in this world here, 

Out of this toune help me through your might, 

Sin that ye wole nat been my tresorere; 

For I am shave as nye as any frere. 

But yit I pray un-to your curtesye: 

Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye. 

Lenvoy de Chaucer 

O conquerour of Brutes Albioun! 
Which that by lyne and free eleccioun 
Ben verray king, this song to you I sende; 
And ye, that mowen al our harm amende, 
Have minde up-on my supplicacioun! 



THE CAUNTERBURY TALES ' ^"i S 
THE PROLOGE 

Here biginneth the Book of the Tales of Caunterbury 

Whan that Aprille with his shoures sote 

The droghte of March hath perced to the rote, 

And bathed every veyne in swich Hcour 

Of which vertu engendred is the flour; 

Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth 

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth 

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne 

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne, 

And smale fowles maken melodye 

That slepen al the night with open ye 

(So priketh hem nature in hir corages) : 

Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages, 

And palmers for to seken straunge strondes. 

To feme halwes couthe in sondry londes. 

And specially, from every shires ende 

Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende 

The holy blisful martir for to seke 

That hem hath holpen whan that they were seke. 

Bifel that in that seson on a day 
In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay 
Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage 
To Caunterbury with ful devout corage, 
At night was come in-to that hostelrye 
Wei nyne and twenty in a companye 
Of sondry folk, by aventure y-falle 
In felawshipe, and pilgrims were they alle 
That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde; 
The chambers and the stables weren wyde, 
And wel we weren esed atte beste. 
And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste, 

Sk., A, 1-30 



31-68 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 265 

So had I spoken with hem everichon 
That I was of hir felawshipe anon, 
And made forward erly for to ryse 
To take our wey ther as I yow devyse. 

But natheles, whyl I have tyme and space, 
Er that I ferther in this tale pace, 
Me thinketh it acordaunt to resoun 
To telle yow al the condicioun 
Of ech of hem, so as it semed me, 
And which they weren and of what degree, 
And eek in what array that they were inne; 
And at a knight than wol I first biginne: 

A KNIGHT ther was, and that a worthy man, 
That fro the tyme that he first bigan 
To ryden oute, he loved chivalrye, 
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisye. 
Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre. 
And therto had he riden — no man ferre — 
As wel in Cristendom as hethenesse, 
And evere honoured for his worthinesse. 

At Alisaundre he was whan it was wonne. 
Ful ofte tyme he had the bord bigonne 
Aboven alle naciouns in Pruce. 
In Lettow had he reysed and in Ruce: 
No Cristen man so ofte of his degree. 
In Gernade at the sege eek had he be 
Of Algezir, and riden in Belmarye. 
At Lyeys was he, and at Satalye, 
Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete See 
At many a noble armee had he be. 
At mortal batailles had he been fiftene, 
And foughten for our feith at Tramissene 
In listes thryes, and ay slayn his foo. 
This ilke worthy knight had been also 
Somtyme with the lord of Palatye 
Ageyn another hethen in Turkye, 
And everemore he had a sovereyn prys. 
And though that he were worthy, he was wys, 

Sk., A, 31-68 



266 CHAUCER 69-106 

And of his port as meke as is a mayde. 
He nevere yet no vileinye ne sayde 
In al his lyf un-to no maner wight. 
He was a verray parfit, gentil knight. 

But for to tellen yow of his array, 
His hors were gode, but he was nat gay. 
Of fustian he wered a gipoun 
Al bismotered with his habergeoun; 
For he was late y-come from his viage, 
And wente for to doon his pilgrimage. 

With him ther was his sone, a young SQUYER, 
A lovyer and a lusty bacheler, 
With lokkes crulle as they were leyd in presse. 
Of twenty yeer of age he was, I gesse. 
Of his stature he was of evene lengthe, 
And wonderly deliver, and of greet strengthe. 
And he had ben somtyme in chivachye 
In Flaundres, in Artoys, and Picardye, 
And born him wel as of so litel space 
In hope to stonden in his lady grace. 
Embrouded was he, as it were a mede 
Al ful of fresshe floures whyte and rede. 
Singing he was, or fioyling, al the day: 
He was as freshe as is the month of May. 
Short was his goune, with sieves longe and wyde. 
Wel coude he sitte on hors, and faire ryde. 
He coude songes make and wel endyte, 
luste and eek daunce, and wel purtreye and wryte. 
So hote he lovede that by nightertale 
He sleep namore than dooth a nightingale. 
Curteys he was, lowly, and servisable, 
And carf biforn his fader at the table. 

A YEMAN had he, and servaunts namo 
At that tyme, for him liste ryde so; 
And he was clad in cote and hood of grene. 
A sheef of pecok-arwes brighte and kene 
Under his belt he bar ful thriftily 
(Wel coude he dresse his takel yemanly, 

Sk., A, 69-106 






107-144 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 267 

His arwes drouped noght with fetheres lowe) ; 
And in his hand he bar a mighty bowe. 
A not-heed had he, with a broun visage. 
Of wode-craft wel coude he al the usage. 
Upon his arm he bar a gay bracer, 
And by his syde a swerd and a bokeler; 
And on that other syde a gay daggere, 
Harneised wel, and sharp as point of spere; 
A Cristofre on his brest of silver shene. 
An horn he bar, the bawdrik was of grene; 
A forster was he, soothly, as I gesse. 

Ther was also a Nonne, a PRIORESSE, 
That of hir smyling was ful simple and coy; 
Hir gretteste ooth was but "By Seinte Loy!'* 
And she was cleped Madame Eglentyne. 
Ful wel she song the service divyne, 
Entuned in hir nose ful semely; 
And Frensh she spak ful faire and fetisly 
After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe 
(For Frensh of Paris was to hir unknowe.) 
At mete wel y- taught was she with-alle: 
She leet no morsel from hir lippes fall, 
Ne wette hir lingres in hir sauce depe; 
Wel coude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe 
That no drope ne fille up-on hir brest. 
In curteisye was set ful muche hir lest. 
Hir over lippe wyped she so clene 
That in hir coppe ther was no ferthing sene 
Of grece whan she dronken had hir draughte; 
Ful semely after hir mete she raughte. 
And sikerly she was of greet disport, 
And ful plesaunt, and amiable of port. 
And peyned hir to countrefete chere 
Of court, and been estatlich of manere, 
And to ben holden digne of reverence. 
But for to speken of hir conscience. 
She was so charitable and so pitous 
She wolde wepe if that she sawe a mous 

Sk., A. 107-144 



268 CHAUCER i4s-i82 

Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde. 

Of smale houndes had she that she fedde 

With rosted flesh, or milk and wastel-breed. 

But sore weep she if oon of hem were deed, 

Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte: 

And al was conscience and tendre herte. 

Ful semely hir wimpel pinched was; 

Hir nose tretys; hir eyen greye as glas; 

Hir mouth ful smal, and ther-to softe and reed; 

But sikerly she had a fair forheed: 

It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe; 

For hardily she was not undergrowe. 

Ful fetis was hir cloke, as I was war. 

Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar 

A peire of bedes gauded al with grene; 

And ther-on heng a brooch of gold ful shene, 

On which ther was first write a crowned "A,'* 

And after, "Amor vincit omnia.^^ 

Another NONNE with hir hadde she 
That was hir chapeleyn, and PREESTES three. 

A MONK ther was, a fair for the maistrye, 
An out-ryder, that lovede venerye; • 
A manly man, to been an abbot able. 
Ful many a de}Titee hors had he in stable: 
And whan he rood, men mighte his brydel here 
Ginglen in a whistling wind as clere 
And eek as loude as dooth the chapel-belle 
Ther as this lord was keper of the celle. 
The reule of Seint Maure or of Seint Beneit, 
By-cause that it was old and som-del streit. 
This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace. 
And held after the newe world the space. ^ 

He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen - 
That seith that hunters been nat holy men; 
Ne that a monk, whan he is cloisterlees, 
Is lykned til a fish that is waterlees: t 

This is to seyn, a monk out of his cloistre. f j 

But thilke text held he nat worth an oistre, 

Sk., A, US-lSi' 



183-220 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 269 

And I seyde his opinioun was good. 

What sholde he studie, and make him-selven wood, 

Upon a book in cloistre alwey to poure, 

Or swinken with his handes and laboure 

As Austin l^it? How shal the world be served? 

Lat Austin have his swink to him reserved. 

Therfore he was a pricasour aright: 

Grehoundes he had, as swift as fowel in flight; 

Of priking and of hunting for the hare 

Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare. 

I seigh his sieves purfiled at the hond 

With grys, and that the fyneste of a lond; 

And for to festne his hood under his chin, 

He had of gold y-wroght a ful curious pin: 

A love-knotte in the gretter ende ther was. 

His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas. 

And eek his face as he had been anoint. 

He was a lord ful fat and in good point: 

His eyen stepe, and rolling in his heed. 

That stemed as a forneys of a leed; 

His botes souple, his hors in greet estat. 

Now certeinly he was a fair prelat; 

He was nat pale as a for-pyned goost. 

A fat swan loved he best of any roost. 

His palfrey was as broun as is a berye. 

A FRERE ther was, a wantown and a merye, 
A limitour, a ful solempne man. 
In alle the ordres foure is noon that can 
So muche of daliaunce and fair langage. 
He hadde maad ful many a mariage 
Of yonge wommen, at his owne cost. 
Un-to his ordre he was a noble post. 
Ful wel biloved and famulier was he 
With frankeleyns over-al in his contree, 
And eek with worthy wommen of the toun. 
For he had power of confessioun. 
As seyde him-self, more than a curat, 
For of his ordre he was licentiat. 

Sk., A, 183-220 



270 CHAUCER 221-258 

Ful swetely herde he confessioun, 

And plesaunt was his absolucioun. 

He was an esy man to yeve penaunce 

Ther as he wiste to han a good pitaunce; 

For unto a povre ordre for to yive 

Is signe that a man is wel y-shrive. 

For if he yaf, he dorste make avaunt, 

He wiste that a man was repentaunt. 

For many a man so hard is of his herte, 

He may nat wepe al-thogh him sore smerte. 

Therfore in stede of weping and preyeres, 

Men mote yeve silver to the povre freres. 

His tipet was ay farsed ful of knyVes 

And pinnes for to yeven faire wyves. 

And certeinly he had a mery note; ^ ' 

Wel coude he singe and pleyen on a rote; 

Of yeddinges he bar utterly the prys. : 

His nekke whyt was as the flour-de-lys; 

Ther-to he strong was as a champioun. 

He knew the tavernes wel in every toun, ^ 

And everich hostiler and tappestere 

Bet than a lazar or a beggestere; 

For un-to swich a worthy man as he 

Acorded nat, as by his facultee, 

To have with seke lazars aqueyntaunce. 

It is nat honest, it may nat avaunce, 

For to delen with no swich poraille, 

But al with riche and sellers of vitaille. 

And over-al, ther as profit sholde aryse 

Curteys he was and lowly of servyse. 

Ther nas no man no-wher so vertuous. 

He was the beste begger in his hous; 

For thogh a widwe hadde noght a sho, 

So plesaunt was his '^In principio^' 

Yet wolde he have a ferthing er he wente. 

His purchas was wel bettre than his rente. 

And rage he coude as it were right a whelp. 

In love-dayes ther coude he muchel help: 

Sk.. A, 221-258 



259-296 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES . 271 

For ther he was nat lyk a cloisterer 
With a thredbar cope, as is a povre scoler, 
But he was lyk a maister or a pope. 
Of double worsted was his semi-cope, 
That rounded as a belle out of the presse. 
Somwhat he lipsed for his wantownesse, 
To make his Enghsh swete up-on his tonge. 
And in his harping, whan that he had songe, 
His eyen twinkled in his heed aright 
As doon the sterres in the frosty night. 
This worthy limitour was cleped Huberd. 

A MARCHANT was ther with a forked berd, 
In mottelee, and hye on horse he sat, 
Up-bn his heed a Flaundrish bever hat; 
His botes clasped faire and fetisly. 
His resons he spak ful solempnely, 
y Sowning alway thencrees of his winning. 
,He wplde the see were kept for anything 
Bitwixe Middelburgh and Orewelle. 
Wei coude he in eschaunge sheeldes selle. 
This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette; 
Ther wiste no wight that, he was in dette, 
So estatly was he of his govemaunce, 
With his bargaynes, and with his chevisaunce. 
For sothe he was a worthy man with-alle, 
But sooth to seyn, I noot how men him calle. 

A CLERK ther was of Oxenford also 
That un-to logik hadde longe y-go. 
As lene was his hors as is a rake, 
And he nas nat right fat, I undertake, 
But loked holwe, and ther-to soberly. 
Ful thredbar was his overest courtepy; 
For he had geten him yet no benefyce, 
Ne was so worldly for to have offyce. 
For him was lever have at his beddes heed 
Twenty bokes clad in blak or reed 
Of Aristotle and his philosophye 
Than robes riche or fithele or gay sautrye. 

Sk., A, 259-296 



272 CHAUCER 297-334 

But al be that he was a philosophre, 
Yet hadde he but Utel gold in cofre; 
But al that he mighte of his frendes hente, 
On bokes and on lerning he it spente, 
And bisily gan for the soules preye 
Of hem that yaf him wher-with to scoleye. 
Of studie took he most cure and most hede. 
Noght o word spak he more than was nede, 
And that was seyd in forme and reverence, 
And short and quik, and ful of hy sentence. 
Souning in moral vertu was his speche, 
And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche. 

A SERGEANT OF THE LAWE, war and wys, 
That often hadde been at the parvys, 
Ther was also, ful riche of excellence. 
Discreet he was, and of greet reverence: 
He semed swich, his wordes were so wyse. 
lustyce he was ful often in assyse, 
By paten te, and by pleyn commissioun; 
For his science, and for his heigh renoun, 
Of fees and robes had he many oon. 
So greet a purchasour was no-wher noon. 
Al was fee simple to him in effect, 
His purchasing mighte nat been infect. 
No-wher so bisy a man as he ther nas; 
And yet he semed bisier than he was. 
In termes had he cas and domes alle 
That from the t3mie of King William were falle. 
Therto he coude endyte and make a thing, ^ 

Ther coude no wight pinche at his wry ting; 
And every statut coude he pleyn by rote. 
He rood but hoomly in a medlee cote. 
Girt with a ceint of silk with barres smale; 
Of his array telle I no lenger tale. 

A FRANKELEYN was in his companye; 
Whyt was his berd as is the dayesye. 
Of his complexioun he was sangwyn. 
Wei loved he by the morwe a sop in wyn. 

Sk., A. 297-334 



335-372 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 273 

To liven in delyt was evere his wone, 
For he was Epicurus owne sone 
That heeld opinioun that pleyn delyt 
Was verraily felicitee parfyt. 
An housholder, and that a greet, was he; 
Seint lulian he was in his contree. 
His breed, his ale, was alwey after oon; 
A bettre envyned man was no-wher noon. 
With-oute bake mete was nevere his hous, 
Of fish and flesh, and that so plentevous 
It snewed in his hous of mete and drinke, 
Of alle deyntees that men coude thinke. 
After the sondry sesons of the yeer 
So chaunged he his mete and his soper. 
Ful many a fat partrich had he in mewe, 
And many a breem and many a luce in stewe. 
Wo was his cook but-if his sauce were 
Poynaunt and sharp, and redy al his gere. 
His table dormant in his halle alway 
Stood redy covered al the longe day. 
At sessiouns ther was he lord and sire; 
Ful ofte tyme he was knight of the shire. 
An aulas and a gipser al of silk 
Heng at his girdel, whyt as morne milk. 
A shirreve had he been, and a countour; 
Was no-wher such a worthy vavasour. 

An HABERDASSHER and a CARPENTER, 
A WEBBE, a DYER, and a TAPICER,— 
And they were clothed alle in o lyveree 
Of a solempne and a greet fraternitee. 
Ful freshe and newe hir gere apyked was; 
Hir knyves were y-chaped noght with bras 
But al with silver, wroght ful clene and weel, 
Hir girdles and hir pouches every-deel. 
Wei semed ech of hem a fair burgeys 
To sitten in a yeldhalle on a deys. 
Everich for the wisdom that he can 
Was shaply for to been an alderman. 

Sk., A, 335-372 



274 CHAUCER 373-410 

For catel hadde they y-nogh and rente, 
And eek hir wyves wolde it wel assente: 
And elles certein were they to blame. 
It is ful fair to been y-clept "Madame,'^ 
And goon to vigilyes al bifore, 
And have a mantel royalliche y-bore. 

A COOK they hadde with hem for the nones, 
To boille the chiknes with the mary-bones, 
And poudre-marchant tart, and galingale. 
Wel coude he knowe a draughte of London ale. 
He coude roste, and sethe, and broille, and frye, 
Maken mortreux, and wel bake a pye. 
But greet harm was it, as it thoughte me. 
That on his shine a mormal hadde he; 
For blankmanger, that made he with the beste. 

A SHIPMAN was ther, woning fer by weste: 
For aught I woot, he was of Dertemouthe. 
He rood up-on a rouncy as he couthe. 
In a gowne of falding to the knee. 
A daggere hanging on a laas had he 
Aboute his nekke under his arm adoun. 
The hote somer had maad his hewe al broun; 
And certeinly he was a good felawe. 
Ful many a draughte of wyn had he y-drawe 
From Burdeux-ward, whyl that the chapman sleep. 
Of nyce conscience took he no keep. 
If that he faught, and had the hyer hond. 
By water he sente hem hoom to every lond. 
But of his craft to rekene wel his tydes. 
His stremes and his daungers him bisydes, 
His herberwe and his mone, his lodemenage, 
Ther nas noon swich from Hulle to Cartage. 
Hardy he was, and wys to undertake; 
With many a tempest had his berd been shake. 
He knew wel alle the havenes as they were 
From Gbotland to the cape of Finistere, 
And every cryke in Britayne and in Spayne. 
His barge y-cleped was the Maudelayne. 

Sk., A, 373-410 



,411-448 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 275 

With us ther was a DOCTOUR OF PHISYK, 
In al this world ne was ther noon him lyk 
To speke of phisik and of surgery e; 
For he was grounded in astronomye. 
He kepte his pacient a ful greet del 
In houres by his magik naturel. 
Wei coude he fortunen the ascendent 
Of his images for his pacient. 
He knew the cause of everich maladye, 
Were it of hoot or cold, or moiste or drye, 
And wher engendred and of what humour; 
He was a verrey parfit practisour. 
The cause y-knowe, and of his harm the rote, 
Anon he yaf the seke man his bote/U^x^ 
Ful redy had he his apothecaries "'' 

To sende him his drogges and his letuaries; 
For ech of hem made other for to winne: 
Hir frendschip nas nat newe to biginne. 
Wei knew he the olde Esculapius,' 
And Deiscorides, and eek Rufus, 
Old Ypocras, Haly, and Galien; 
Serapion, Razis, and Avicen; 
Averrois, Damascien, and Constantyn; 
Bernard, and Gatesden, and Gilbertyn. 
Of his diete mesurable was he; 
For it was of no superfluitee. 
But of greet norissing and digestible. 
His studie was but htel on the Bible. 
In sangwin and in pers he clad was al, 
Lyned with taffata and with sendal; 
And yet he was but esy of dispence: 
He kepte that he wan in pestilence. 
For gold in phisik is a cordial, - 
Therfore he lovede gold in special. 

A good WYF was ther of bisyde BATHE, 
But she was som-del deef , and that was scathe. 
Of clooth-making she hadde swich an haunt . _ 
She passed hem of Ypres and of Gaunt. 

Sk., A, 411-448 



276 CHAUCER 449-486 

In al the parisshe wyf ne was ther noon 

That to the off ring bifore hir sholde goon; 

And if ther did, certeyn, so wrooth was she 

That she was out of alle charitee. 

Hir coverchiefs ful fyne were of ground: 

I dorste swere they weyeden ten pound 

That on a Sonday were upon hir heed. 

Hir hosen weren of fyn scarlet reed, 

Ful streit y-teyd, and shoos ful moiste and newe. 

Bold was hir face, and fair, and reed of hewe. 

She was a worthy womman al hir lyve, 

Housbondes at chirche-dore she hadde fyve 

Withouten other companye in youthe; 

But therof nedeth nat to speke as nouthe. 

And thryes had she been at lerusalem; 

She hadde passed many a straunge streem; 

At Rome she hadde been, and at Boloigne, 

In Galice at Seint lame, and at Coloigne; 

She coude muche of wandring by the weye. 

Gat-tothed was she, soothly for to seye. 

Up-on an ambler esily she sat, 

Y- wimpled wel, and on hir heed an hat 

As brood as is a bokeler or a targe; 

A foot-mantel aboute hir hipes large. 

And on hir feet a paire of spores sharpe. 

In felawschipe wel coude she laughe and carpe. 

Of remedyes of love she knew per-chaunce. 

For she coude of that art the olde daunce. 

A good man was ther of religioun. 
And was a povre PERSOUNE of a toun; 
But riche he was of holy thoght and werk. 
He was also a lerned man, a clerk. 
That Cristes Gospel trewely wolde preche; 
His parisshens devoutly wolde he teche. 
Benigne he was, and wonder diligent. 
And in adversitee ful pacient. 
And swich he was y-preved ofte sythes. 
Ful looth were him to cursen for his tythes, 

^^>K;,>W, ;,> Sk., A, 449-486 






i 



487-524 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 277 

But rather wolde he yeven, out of doute, 

Un-to his povre parisshens aboute 

Of his offring, and eek of his substaunce. 

He coude in Htel thing han sufhsaunce. 

Wyd was his parisshe, and houses fer a-sonder, 

But he ne lafte nat, for reyn ne thonder, 

In siknesse nor in meschief , to visyte 

The ferreste in his parisshe, muche and lyte, 

Up-on his feet, and in his hand a staf. 

This noble ensample to his sheep he yaf, 

That first he wroghte and afterward he taughte. 

Out of the Gospel he tho wordes caughte; 

And this figure he added eek ther-to, 

That if gold ruste, what shal iren do? 

For if a preest be foul, on whom we truste, 

No wonder is a lewed man to ruste; 

Wei oghte a preest ensample for to yive 

By his clennesse how that his sheep shold live. 

He sette nat his benefice to hyre. 

And leet his sheep encombred in the myre, 

And ran to London, un-to Seynte Poules, 

To seken him a chaunterie for soules. 

Or with a bretherhede to been withholde; 

But dwelte at hoom, and kepte wel his folde, 

So that the wolf ne made it nat miscarie; 

He was a shepherde and no mercenarie. 

And though he holy were and vertuous, 

He was to sinful man nat despitous, 

Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne, 

But in his teching discreet and benigne. 

To drawen folk to hevene by fairnesse 

By good ensample was his bisinesse: 

But it were any persone obstinat, 

What-so he were, of heigh or lowe estat, ^th 

Him wolde he snibben sharply for the nones. ' C^ 

A bettre preest, I trowe that nowher noon is. ^-i' 

He wayted after no pompe and reverence, 

Ne maked him a spyced conscience; 

Sk., A, 487-502; 505-526 



I 



278 CHAUCER 525-552 

But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve, 
He taughte, and first he folwed it him-selve. 

With him ther was a PLOWMAN, was his brother, 
That had y-lad of dong f ul many a fother. ^ 

A trewe swinker and a good was he, 
Living in pees and parfit charitee. 
God loved he best with al his hole herte 
At alle tymes, thogh him gamed or smerte, 
And than' his neighebour right as him-selve. 
He wolde thresshe, and ther-to dyke and delve, 
For Cristes sake, for every povre wight, 
Withouten hyre, if it lay in his might. 
His tythes payed he ful faire and wel, 
Bothe of his propre swink and his catel. 
In a tabard he rood upon a mere. 

Ther was also a Reve and a Millere, 
A Somnour and a Pardoner also, 
A Maunciple and my-self ; ther were namo. ^_ . : 

The MILLER was a stout carl for the nones: -^ 
Ful big he was of braun and eek of bones; 
That proved wel, for over-al ther he cam. 
At wrastling he wolde have alwey the ram. 
He was short-sholdred, brood, a thikke knarre, '"^ 
Ther nas no dore that he nolde heve of harre 
Or breke it at a renning with his heed, 
His berd as any sowe or fox was reed, 
And ther-to brood as though it were a spade. 
Up-on the cop right of his nose he hadde 
A werte, and ther-on stood a tuft of heres 
Reed as the bristles of a sowes eres; 
His nose-thirles blake were and wyde. 
A swerd and bokeler bar he by his syde. 
His mouth as greet was as a greet forneys; 
He was a langler and a goliardeys, '^^V**^ 
And that was most of sinne and harlotryes. 
Wel coude he stelen corn, and tollen thryes; ^ 

And yet he had a thombe of gold, pardee. ^.■■^ c 
A whyt cote and a blew hood wered he. ' 

Sk., A, 527-564 



^U*, 



3-600 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 279 

A baggepype wel coude he blowe and sowne, 
And ther-with-al he broghte us out of towne. 

A gentil MAUNCIPLE was ther of a temple, 
Of which achatours mighte take exemple 
For to be wyse in bying of vitaille. 
For whether that he payde or took by taille, t 
Algate he wayted so in his achat <^ --C^ 

That he was ay biforn and in good stat. ' <^ 

Now is nat that of God a ful fair grace, 
That swich a lewed mannes wit shal pace 
The wisdom of an heep of lerned men? 
Of maistres had he mo than thryes ten 
That were of lawe expert and curious, 
Of which ther were a doseyn in that hous. 
Worthy to ben stiwardes of rente and lond 
Of any lord that is in Engelond, 
To make him live by his propre good, 
In honour dettelees but he were wood. 
Or live as scarsly as him list desire; 
^^^^ And able for to helpen al a shire 

In any cas that mighte falle or happe; 
And yit this maunciple sette hir aller cappe. 

The REVE was a sclendre colerik man; 
His berd was shave as ny as evere he can; 
- His heer was by his eres rounde y-shorn; 
His top was dokked lyk a preest biforn; 
Ful longe were his legges and ful lene, 
Y-lyk a staf, ther was no calf y-sene. 
Wel coude he kepe a gerner and a binne; 
Ther was noon auditour coude on him winne. 
Wel wiste he by the droghte and by the reyn 
The yelding of his seed and of his greyn. 
His lordes sheep, his neet, his dayerye. 
His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrye 
Was hoolly in this reves governinge. 
And by his covenaunt yaf the rekeninge. 
Sin that his lord was twenty yeer of age. 
Ther coude no man bringe him in arrerage. 

:., A, 565-602 



280 ' CHAUCER 6oi-638 

Ther nas baillif , ne herde, ne other hyne, 
That he ne knew his sleighte and his covyne; 
They were adrad of him as of the deeth. 
His woning was ful fair up-on an heeth, 
With grene trees shadwed was his place. 
He coude bettre than his lord purchase. 
Ful riche he was astored prively; 
His lord wel coude he plesen subtilly, 
To yeve and lene him of his owne good " 
And have a thank and yet a cote and hood. 
In youthe he lerned had a good mister: 
He was a wel good wrighte, a carpenter. 
This reve sat up-on a ful good stot, 
That was al pomely grey and highte Scot. 
A long surcote of pers up-on he hadde, 
And by his syde he bar a rusty blade. 
Of Northfolk was this reve of which I telle, 
Bisyde a toun men clepen B aides welle. 
Tukked he was, as is a frere, aboute. 
And evere he rood the hindreste of our route. 

A SOMNOUR was ther with us in that place 
That had a fyr-reed cherubinnes face; 
For sawcefieem he was with eyen narwe. 
As hoot he was and lecherous as a sparwe. 
With scalled browes blake, and piled herd: 
Of his visage children were aferd. 
Ther nas quik-silver, litarge, ne brimstoon. 
Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon, 
Ne oynement that wolde dense and byte. 
That him mighte helpen of his whelkes whyte, 
Nor of the knobbes sitting on his chekes. 
Wel loved he garleek, oynons, and eek lekes, 
And for to drinken strong wyn, reed as blood. 
Than wolde he speke, and crye as he were wood. 
And whan that he wel dronken had the wyn, 
Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn. 
A fewe termes had he, two or three. 
That he had lerned out of som decree: 

Sk., A, 603-640 



39-676 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES . 281 

No wonder is, he herde it al the day, 
And eek ye knowen wel how that a lay 
Can clepen ''Watte" as wel as can the pope. 
But who-so coude in other thing him grope, 
Than had he spent al his philosophye: 
Ay "Questio quid luris'^ wolde he crye. 
He was a gentil harlot and a kinde; 
A bettre felawe sholde men noght finde. 
And if he fond o-wher a good felawe, 
He wolde techen him to have non awe, 
In swich cas, of the erchedeknes curs, 
But-if a mannes soule were in his purs. 
For in his purs he sholde y-punisshed be. 
"Purs is the erchedeknes helle," seyde he. 
But wel I woot he lyed right in dede: 
Of cursing oghte ech gilty man him drede, 
For curs wol slee, right as assoiling saveth; 
And also war him of a significavit. 
In daunger had he at his owne gyse 
The yonge girles of the diocyse, 
And knew hir counseil, and was al hir reed. 
A gerland had he set up-on his heed 
As greet as it were for an ale-stake; 
A bokeler had he maad him of a cake. 

With him ther rood a gentil PARDONER 
Of Rouncival, his freend and his compeer, 
That streight was comen fro the court of Rome. 
Ful loude he song, ''Com hider, love, to me." 
This somnour bar to him a stif burdoun, 
Was nevere trompe of half so greet a soun. 
This pardoner had heer as yelow as wex. 
But smothe it heng as dooth a strike of flex; 
By ounces henge his lokkes that he hadde. 
And ther-with he his shuldres overspradde. 
But thinne it lay, by colpons oon and oon. 
But hood, for lolitee, ne wered he noon, 
vv p. For it was trussed up in his walet. 
^ - Him thoughte he rood al of the newe let: 

Sk., A, 641-648; 653-682 



282 . ^ CHAUCER 677-714 

Dischevele, save his cappe, he rood al bare. 
Swiche glaring eyen had he as an hare. 
A vernicle had he sowed on his cappe. 
His walet lay biforn him in his lappe 
Bretful of pardoun come from Rome al hoot. 
A voys he had as smal as hath a goot. 
No berd had he, ne nevere sholde have; 
As smothe it was as it were late y-shave. 
Ne was ther swich another pardoner r 
For in his male he had a pilwe-beer 
Which that, he seyde, was our lady veyl; 
He seyde he had a gobet of the seyl 
That Seynte Peter had, whan that he wente 
Up-on the see, til Iesu_ Crist him hente; 
He had a croys of latoun, ful of stones. 
And in a glas he hadde pigges bones. 
But with these rehkes, whan that he fond 
A povre persone, dwelling up-on lond, 
Up-on a day he gat him more moneys ^ 
Than that the persone gat in monthes tweye. 
And thus with feyned flaterye and Tapes 
He made the persone and the peple his apes. 
But trewely to tellen, atte laste, 
He was in chirche a noble ecclesiaste. 
Wei coude he rede a lessoun or a storie. 
But alderbest he song an offertorie; 
For wel he wiste, whan that song was songe, 
He moste preche, and wel affyle his tonge 
To winne silver, as he ful wel coude; 
Therfore he song so merily and loude. 

Now have I told you shortly, in a clause, 
Thestat, tharray, the nombre, and eek the cause 
Why that assembled was this companye 
In Southwerk at this gentil hostelrye 
That highte the Tabard, faste by the Belle. 
But now is tyme to yow for to telle 
How that we baren us that ilke night. 
Whan we were in that hostelrye alight. 

Sk., A, 683-690; 693-722 



715-752 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 283 

And after wol I telle of our viage, C , 

And al the remenaunt of our pilgrimage. 
But first I pray yow, of your curteisye, 
That ye narette it nat my vileinye, 
Thogh that I pleynly speke in this matere, 
To telle yow hir wordes and hir chere; 
Ne thogh I speke hir wordes properly. 
For this ye knowen al-so wel as I, 
Who-so shal telle a tale after a man, 
He moot reherce as ny as evere he can 
Everich a word if it be in his charge, 
■ Al speke he nevere so rudeliche and large; 
Or elles he moot telle his tale untrewe, 
Or feyne thing, or finde wordes newe. 
He may nat spare, al- thogh he were his brother; 
He moot as wel seye o word as another. 
Crist spak him-self ful brode in holy writ, 
And wel ye wot no vileinye is it. 
Eek Plato seith, who-so that can him rede, 
The wordes mote be cosin to the dede. 
Also I prey yow to foryeve it me, 
Al have I nat set folk in hir degree 
Heer in this tale, as that they sholde stonde: 
My wit is short, ye may wel understonde. 
Greet chere made our host us everichon, 
And to the soper sette he us anon; 
And served us with vitaille at the beste. 
Strong was the wyn, and wel to drinke us leste. 
A semely man our hoste was with-alle 
For to han been a marshal in an halle; 
A large man he was with eyen stepe, 
^^ A fairer burgeys is ther noon in Chepe: 

Bold of his speche, and wys, and wel y- taught. 

And of manhod him lakkede right naught. 

Eek therto he was right a mery man. 

And after soper pleyen he bigan. 

And spak of mirthe amonges othere thinges, 

Whan that we had maad our rekeninges; 

Sk., A, 723-760 



^ 



284 CHAUCER 753-790 

And seyde thus: ''Now lordinges, trewely, 
Ye been to me right welcome hertely: 
For by my trouthe, if that I shal nat lye, 
I ne saugh this yeer so mery a companye 
At ones in this herberwe as is now. 
Fayn wolde I doon yow mirthe, wiste I how. 
And of a mirthe I am right now bithoght, 
To doon yow ese, and it shal coste noght. 

"Ye goon to Caunterbury: God yow spede, 
The bhsful martir quyte yow your mede! 
And wel I woot, as ye goon by the weye, 
Ye shapen yow to talen and to pleye; 
For trewely, confort ne mirthe is noon 
To ryde by the weye doumb as a stoon. 
And therfore wol I maken yow disport, 
As I seyd erst, and doon yow som confort. 
And if yow lyketh alle, by oon assent, 
Now for to stonden at my lugement, 
And for to werken as I shal yow seye, 
To-morwe, whan ye ryden by the weye. 
Now, by my fader soule, that is deed, 
But ye be merye, I wol yeve yow myn heed. 
Hold up your hond, wi thou ten more speche." 

Our counseil was nat longe for to seche. 
Us thoughte it was noght worth to make it wys. 
And graunted him withouten more avys, 
And bad him seye his verdit, as him leste. 

"Lordinges," quod he, ''now herkneth for the beste, 
But tak it not, I prey yow, in desdeyn! 
This is the poynt, to speken short and pleyn. 
That ech of yow to shorte with your weye 
In this viag§ shal telle tales tweye 
To Caunterbury- ward, I mene it so, 
And hom-ward he shal tellen othere two, 
Of aventures that whylom han bifalle. 
And which of yow that bereth him best of alle, 
That is to seyn, that telleth in this cas 
Tales of best sentence and most solas, 

Sk.. A. 761-798 



791-828 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 285 

Shal have a soper at our aller cost ^,^ 

Heer in this place, sitting by this post, 

Whan that we come agayn fro Caunterbury. 

And for to make yow the more mery, 

I wol my-selven gladly with yow ryde, 

Right at myn owne cost, and be your gyde. 

And who-so wol my lugement withseye 

Shal paye al that we spenden by the weye. 

And if ye vouche-sauf that it be so, 

Tel me anon, with-outen wordes mo, 

And I wol erly shape me therfore." 

This thing was graunted, and our othes swore 
With ful glad herte, and preyden him also 
That he wold vouche-sauf for to do so, 
And that he wolde been our governour, 
And of our tales luge and reportour, 
And sette a soper at a certeyn prys, 
And we wold reuled been at his devys 
In heigh and lowe; and thus by oon assent 
We been acorded to his lugement. 
And ther-up-on the wyn was fet anon: 
We dronken, and to reste wente echon 
With-outen any lenger taryinge. .^^ 

A-morwe, whan that day bigan to springe, 
Up roos our host and was our aller cok. 
And gadred us togidre, alle in a flok, 
And forth we riden, a litel more than pas, 
Un-to the watering of Seint Thomas. 
And ther our host bigan his hors areste. 
And seyde, "Lordinges, herkneth, if yow leste. 
Ye woot our forward, and I it yow recorde. 
If even-song and morwe-song acorde, 
Lat se now who shal telle the firste tale. 
As evere mote I drinke wyn or ale, 
Who-so be rebel to my lugement 
Shal paye for al that by the weye is spent. 
Now draweth cut, er that we ferrer twinne; 
He which that hath the shortest shal biginne. 

Sk., A, 799-836 



286 CHAUCER 829-850. k.t..i-8 

Sire knight," quod he, "my maister and my lord, 
Now draweth cut, for that is myn acord. 
Cometh neer," quod he, ''my lady prioresse; 
And ye, sire clerk, lat be your shamfastnesse: 
Ne studieth noght; ley hond to, every man." 

Anon to drawen every wight bigan, 
And shortly for to tellen as it was. 
Were it by aventure or sort or cas. 
The sothe is this, the cut fil to the knight. 
Of which ful blythe and glad was every wight; 
And telle he moste his tale, as was resoun, 
By forward and by composicioun 
As ye han herd. What nedeth wordes mo? 
And whan this gode man saugh that it was so, 
As he that wys was and obedient 
To kepe his forward by his free assent. 
He seyde, " Sin I shal biginne the game. 
What, welcome be the cut, a Goddes name! 
Now lat us ryde, and herkneth what I seye." 

And with that word we riden forth our weye, 
And he bigan with right a mery chere 
His tale anon, and seyde in this manere. 

Here endeth the prologe of this book; and here biginneth the 
first tale, which is the Knightes Tale. 



THE KNIGHTES TALE 

Whylom, as olde stories tellen us, 
Ther was a duk that highte Theseus: 
Of Athenes he was lord and governour, 
And in his tyme swich a conquerour 
That gretter was ther noon under the sonne. 
Ful many a riche contree had he wonne; 
What with his wisdom and his chivalrye, 
He conquered al the regne of Femenye, 

Sk., A, 837-866 



9-46 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 287 

That whylom was y-c]eped Scithia; 

And weddede the quene Ipohta, 

And broghte hir hoom with him in his contree 

With muchel glorie and greet solempnitee, 

And eek hir yonge suster Emelye. 

And thus with victorie and with melodye, 

This duk, of whom I make mencioun, ^ -. 

When he was come almost unto the toun, di'. 

In al his wele and in his moste pryde, 

He was war, as he caste his eye asyde, 

Wher that ther kneled in the hye weye 

A companye of ladies, tweye and tweye, 

Ech after other, clad in clothes blake. 

But swich a cry and swich a wo they make 

That in this world nis creature livinge 

That herde swich another weymentinge; 

And of this cry they nolde nevere stenten 

Til they the reynes of his brydel henten. 

"What folk ben ye, that at myn hoom-cominge 
Perturben so my feste with cryinge?" 
Quod Theseus. " Have ye so greet envye 
Of myn honour, that thus compleyne and crye? 
Or who hath yow misboden or offended? 
And telleth me if it may been amended, 
And why that ye ben clothed thus in blak! " 

The eldest lady of hem alle spak. 
When she had swouned with a deedly chere, 
That it was routhe for to seen and here. 
And seyde, "Lord, to whom Fortune hath yiven 
Victorie, and as a conquerour to liven, 
.j-i^ Noght greveth us your glorie and your honour; 

But we biseken mercy and socour. 
Have mercy on our wo and our distresse. 
Som drope of pitee, thurgh thy gentillesse, 
Up-on us wrecched wommen lat thou falle. 
For certes, lord, ther nis noon of us alle. 
That she nath been a duchesse or a quene. 
Now be we caitifs, as it is wel sene! 

Sk., A, 867-872; 893-924 



288 CHAUCER 47-84 

" I wrecche, which that wepe and waille thus, 
Was why lorn wyf to King Capaneus, 
That starf at Thebes, cursed be that day! 
And alle we that been in this array 
And maken al this lamentacioun, 
We losten alle our housbondes at that toun 
Whyl that the sege ther-aboute lay. 
And yet now the olde Creon, weylaway! 
That lord is now of Thebes the citee, 
Fulfild of ire and of iniquitee, 
He for despyt and for his tirannye, 
To do the dede bodyes vileinye 
Of alle our lordes, which that ben y-slawe, 
Hath alle the bodyes on an heep y-drawe, 
And wol nat suffren hem by noon assent 
Neither to been y-buried nor y-brent, 
But maketh houndes ete hem in despyt." 
And with that word, with-outen more respyt, 
They fillen gruf , and cryden pitously, 
"Have on us wrecched wommen som mercy, 
And lat our sorwe sinken in thyn herte!" 

This gentil duk doun from his courser sterte 
With herte pitous, whan he herde hem speke. 
Him thoughte that his herte wolde breke 



^^c^. 



^^ 



Whan he saugh hem so pitous and so mat 
That whylom weren of so greet estat. 
And in his armes he hem alle up hente, 
And hem conforteth in ful good entente; 
And swoor his ooth, as he was trewe knight 
He wolde doon so ferforthly his might 
Up-on the tyraunt Creon hem to wreke, 
That al the peple of Grece sholde speke 
How Creon was of Theseus y-served. 
As he that had his deeth ful wel deserved. 
And right anoon, with-outen more abood, ' 
His baner he desplayeth and forth rood 
To Thebes- ward, and al his host bisyde: 
No neer Athenes wolde he go ne ryde. 

Sk., A, 931-968 



85-122 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 289 

The rede statue of Mars with spere and targe 

So shyneth in his whyte baner large 

That alle the feeldes gUteren up and doun; 

And by his baner born is his penoun 

Of gold ful riche, in which ther was y-bete " ' 

The Minotaur, which that he slough in Crete. 

But shortly for to speken of this thing, 

With Creon, which that was of Thebes king, 

He faught, and slough him manly as a knight 

In pleyn bataille, and putte the folk to flight. 

And by assaut he wan the citee after. 

And rente adoun bothe wal and sparre and rafter; 

And to the ladyes he restored agayn 

The bones of hir housbondes that were slayn, 

To doon obsequies as was tho the gyse. 

But it were al to longe for to devyse 

The grete clamour and the waymentinge 

That the ladyes made at the brenninge 

Of the bodyes, and the grete honour 

That Theseus, the noble conquerour, 

Doth to the ladyes whan they from him wente; 

But shortly for to telle is myn entente. 

Whan that this worthy duk, this Theseus, 

Hath Creon slayn, and wonne Thebes thus, 

Stille in that feeld he took al night his reste, 

And did with al the contree as him leste. ^V^m., 

To ransake in the tas of bodyes dede. 
Hem for to strepe of barneys and of wede, 
The pilours diden bisinesse and cure 
After the bataille and disconfiture. 
And so bifel that in the tas they founde, 
Thurgh-girt with many a grevous blody wounde, 
Two yonge knightes ligging by and by, 
Bothe in oon armes wroght ful richely. 
Of whiche two, Arcita hight that oon, 
And that other knight hight Palamon. 
Nat fully quikQ, ne fully dede they were; 
But by hir cote-armur^s and by hir gere 

Sk., A, 975-980; 985-1016 



290 CHAUCER 123-16O 

The heraudes knewe hem best in special 
As they that weren of the blood royal 
Of Thebes, and of siigtren two y-born. 
Out of the tas the pilours han hem torn, 
And han hem caried softe un-to the tente 
Of Theseus, and he ful sone hem sente 
To Athenes, to dwellen in prisoun 
Perpetuelly, he nolde no raunsoun. 
And whan this worthy duk hath thus y-don, 
He took his host, and hoom he rood anon 
With laurer crowned as a conquerour. 
And ther he liveth in loye and in honour 
Terme of his lyf : what nedeth wordes mo? 
And in a tour in angwish and in wo 
Dwellen this Palamoun and eek Arcite 
For everemore; ther may no gold hem quyte. 
This passeth yeer by yeer, and day by day, 
Til it fel ones, in a morwe of May, 
That Emelye, that fairer was to sene 
Than is the lihe upon his stalke grene. 
And fressher than the May with fioures newe — 
For with the rose colour strdbf Mr hewe,' 
I noot which was the fairer of hem two — 
Er it were day, as was hir wone to do, 
She was arisen and al redy dight; <"'^ 

For May wol have no slogardye a-night. 
The sesoun priketh every gentil herte, 
And maketh him out of his sleep ^o sterte, 
And seith, "Arys, and do thyn observaunce!" 
This maked Emelye have remembraunce 
To doon honour to May, and for to ryse. 
Y-clothed was she freshe, for to devyse; 
Hir yelow heer was broyded in a tresse 
Bihinde hir bak a yerde long, I gesse. ^ 
And in the gardin at the sonne up-rist^^rfV' 
She walketh up and doun, and as hir list " ""^^ 
She gadereth fioures, party whyte and rede, 
To make a sotil gerland for hir hede, 

Sk., A, 1017-1054 



161-198 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 291 

And as an aungel hevenly she song. 
The grete tour, that was so thikke and strong, 
Which of the castel was the chief dongeoun 
(Ther-as the knightes weren in prisoun, 
Of which I tolde yow, and tellen shal), 
Was evene Ibynant to the gardin-wal, 
Ther-as this Emelye had hir pleyinge. 
Bright was the sonne, and cleer that morweninge, 
And Palamon, this woful prisoner, 
As was his wone, by leve of his gayler, ' 
Was risen, and romed in a chambre on heigh, 
In which he al the noble citee seigh 
And eek the gardin ful of braunches grene, 
Ther-as this fresshe Emelye the shene 
Was in hir walk, and romed up and doun. 
This sorweful prisoner, this Palamoun, 
Goth in the chambre roming to and fro, 
And to him-self compleyning of his wo. 
That he was born, ful ofte he seyde, "Alas!" 
And so bifel by aventure or cas 
That thurgh a windowe thikke of many a barre 
Of yren greet, and squar as any sparre, 
He caste his eye upon Emelya, 
And ther-with-al he bleynte, and cryde "A!" 
As though he stongen were un-to the herte. 
And with that cry Arcite anon up-sterte. 
And seyde, " Cosin myn, what eyleth thee. 
That art so pale and deedly on to see? 
Why crydestow? Who hath thee doon offence? 
For Goddes love, tak al in pacience 
Our prisoun, for it may non other be: 
Fortune hath yeven us this adversitee. 
Som wikke aspect or disposicioun 
Of Saturne, by sum constellacioun. 
Hath yeven us this, al-though we had it sworn. 
So stood the hevene whan that we were born. 
We moste endure it: this is the short and pleyn." 
This Palamon answerde, and seyde ageyn, 

Sk., A, 1055-1092 



292 CHAUCER 199-236 

" Cosyn, for sothe, of this opinioun 
Thou hast a veyn imaginacioim. 
This prison caused me nat for to crye. 
But I was hurt right now thurgh-out^ myn ye 
In- to myn herte, that wol my bane be. 
The fairnesse of that lady that I see 
Yond in the gardin romen to and fro 
Is cause of al my crying and my wo. 
I noot wher she be womman or goddesse, 
But Venus is it soothly as I gesse." 
And ther-with-al on knees doun he fil, 
And seyde, "Venus, if it be thy wil 
Yow in this gardin thus to transfigure 
Bifore me, sorweful wrecche creature. 
Out of this prisoun help that we may scapen. 
And if so be my destinee be shapen 
By eterne word to dyen in prisoun, 
Of our linage have som compassioun. 
That is so lowe y-brought by tirannye." 
And with that word Arcite gan espye 
Wher-as this lady romed to and fro. 
And with that sighte hir beautee hurte him so 
That, if that Palamon was wounded sore, 
Arcite is hurt as muche as he, or more. 
And with a sigh he seyde pitously, 
''The fresshe beautee sleeth me sodeynly 
Of hir that rometh in the yonder place; 
And but -I have hir mercy and hir grace 
'4ji^j\JJb That I may seen hir atte leeste weye, 
_vvA.c^f I nam but deed; ther nis namore to seye." 

This Palamon, whan he tho wordes herde, 
Dispitously he loked, and answerde, 
"Whether seistow this in ernest or in pley?" ^^ 

"Nay," quod Arcit^, "in ernest, by my ffey! 
^ ' God helpe me so, me Hst ful yvele pleye." '' ' 1 

This Palamon gan knitte his browes tweye. 
"It nerQ," quod he, "to thee no greet honour 
For to be fals, ne for to be traytour 

Sk., A, 1093-1130 



I 



237-274 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 293 

To me that am thy cosin and thy brother 
Y-sworn ful depe, and ech of us til other, 
That nevere, for to dyeri in the peyne, 
Til that the deeth departe shal us tweyne, 
Neither of us in love to hindren other, 
Ne in non other cas, my leve brother; 
But that thou sholdest trewely forthren me 
In every cas, and I shal forthren thee. 
This was thyn ooth and myn also, certeyn; 
I wot right wel, thou darst it nat withseyn. 
Thus artow of my counseil, out of doute, 
And now thou woldest falsely been aboute 
To love my lady, whom I love and serve, 
And evere shal til that myn herte sterve. 
Now certes, fals Arcite, thou shalt nat so! 
I loved hir first, and tolde thee my wo 
As to my counseil and my brother sworn 
To forthre me, as I have told bifom. 
For which thou art y-bounden as a knight 
To helpen me, if it lay in thy might. 
Or elles artow fals, I dar wel seyn." 

This Arcite ful proudly spak ageyn: 
"Thou shalt," quod he, ''be rather fals than I. 
But thou art fals, I telle thee utterly; 
For par amour I loved hir first er thow. 
What wiltow seyn? Thou wistest nat yet now 
Whether she be a womman or goddesse! 
Thyn is affeccioun of holinesse, 
And myn is love as to a creature, 
For which I tolde thee myn aventure 
As to my cosin and my brother sworn. 
I pose that thou lovedest hir biforn; 
Wostow nat wel the olde clerkes sawe, 
That ' Who shal yeve a lover any lawe? * 
Love is a gretter lawe, by my pan, 
Than may be yeve to any erthly man. 
And therfore positif lawe and swich decree 
Is broke al-day for love, in ech degree." 

Sk., A, 1131-U68 

i ". u N_ «....i:,^ 



2^^ SSX^5^^^^^^ /Cpt-M^ t' 275-312 

Greet was the stryf and long bitwixe hem tweye, 
If that I hadde leyser for to seye; 
But to theffect. It happed on a day — 
To telle it yow as shortly as I may — 
A worthy duk that highte Perotheus, 
That felawe was un-to Duk Theseus 
Sin thilke day that they were children lyte, 
Was come to Athenes, his felawe to visyte, 
And for to pleye, as he was wont to do, 
For in this world he loved no man so, 
And he loved him as tendrely ageyn. 
So wel they loved, as olde bokes seyn. 
That whan that oon was deed, sothly to telle, 
His felawe wente and soghte him doun in helle; 
But of that storye Hst me nat to wryte. 
Duk Perotheus loved wel Arcite, 
And had him knowe at Thebes yeer by yere. 
And fynally at requeste and preyere 
Of Perotheus, with-oute any raunsoun, 
Duk Theseus him leet out of prisoun 
Freely to goon wher that him liste over-al, 
In swich a gyse as I you tellen shal. 

This was the forward, pleynly for tendyte, 
Bitwixen Theseus and him Arcite: 
That if so were that Arcite were y-founde 
Evere in his lyf , by day or night or stounde 
In any contree of this Theseus, 
And he were caught, it was acorded thus, 
That with a swerd he sholde lese his heed; 
Ther nas non other remedye ne reed, 
But taketh his leve, and homward he him spedde 
Let him be war, his nekke lyth to \^eddef ' 

How greet a sorwe suffreth now Arcite! 
The deeth he feleth thurgh his herte smyte; 
He wepeth, wayleth, cryeth pitously; 
To sleen him-self he wayteth prively. 
He seyde, "Alias that day that I was born! 
Now is my prison worse than biforn; 

Sk.,A, 1187-1224 I 



i 



. i^ 



THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 295 

Now is me shape eternally to dwelle 
Noght in purgatorie but in helle. 
Alias that evere knew I Perotheus! 
For elles had I dwelled with Theseus 
Y-fetered in his prisoun evere-mo. 
Than had I been in blisse and not in wo. 
Only the sighte of hir whom that I serve, 
Though that I nevere hir grace may deserve, 
Wolde han suffised right y-nough for me. 

dere cosin Palamon," quod he, 
^'Thyn is the victorie of this a venture, ' 

\Fu1 blisfully in prison maistow dure! 

''Alias, why pleynen folk so in commune 
Of purveyaunce of God or of Fortune, 
That yeveth hem ful ofte in many a gyse 
Wei bettre than they can hem-self devyse? 
Som man desyreth for to han richesse. 
That cause is of his mordre or greet siknesse. 
And som man wolde out of his prison fayn, 
That in his hous is of his meynee slayn. 
Infinite harmes been in this matere; 
vWe witen nat what thing we preyen here. 
Sin that I may nat seen yow, Emelye, 

1 nam but deed: ther nis no remedye." 

Up-on that other syde Palamon, 
Whan that he wiste Arcite was agon, 
Swich sorwe he maketh that the grete tour 
Resouneth of his youling and clamour. 
The pure fettres on his shines grete 
Weren of his bittre salte teres wete. 
"Alias!" quod he, "Arcita, cosin myn, 
Of al our stryf, God woot, the fruyt is thyn. 
Thow walkest now in Thebes at thy large. 
And of my wo thou yevest litel charge. 
Thou mayst, sin thou hast wisdom and manhede, 
Assemblen alle the folk of our kinrede. 
And make a werre so sharp on this citee 
That by som aventure or som tretee 

1225-1236; 1251-1260; 1273-1288 



296 CHAUCER 3si-388 

Thou mayst have hir to lady and to wyf, 
For whom that I moste nedes lese my lyf. 
For, as by wey of possibiHtee, 
Sith thou art at thy large, of prison free, 
And art a lord, greet is thyn avauntage. 
More than is myn that sterve heer in a cage. 
For I mot wepe and wayle whyl I live, 
With al the wo that prison may me yive, 
And eek with peyne that love me yiveth also 
That doubleth al my torment and my wo." 
Ther-with the fyr of lelousye up-sterte 
With-in his brest, and hente him by the herte 
So woodly that he lyk was to biholde 
The box-tree, or the asshen dede and colde. 
Tho seyde he, ''O cruel goddes that governe 
This world with binding of your word eterne. 
And wi^yten in the table of athamq,unt , 
Your parlement and your eterne graunt. 
What is mankinde more un-to yow holde 
Than is the sheep that rouketh in the folde? 
For slayn is man right as another beest, 
And dwelleth eek in prison and arest. 
And hath siknesse and greet adversitee, 
And ofte tymes giltelees, pardee! 

''What governaunce is in this prescience 
That giltelees tormenteth innocence? 
Alias, I see a serpent or a theef. 
That many a trewe man hath doon mescheef. 
Goon at his large and wher him list may turne; 
But I mot been in prison thurgh Saturne!" 

The somer passeth, and the nightes longe 
Encresen double wyse the peynes stronge 
Bothe of the lover and the prison,e,r- - 
I noot which hath the wofuller meste£ ' '^ 
Yow loveres axe I now this questioun: 
Who hath the worse, Arcite or Palamoun? 
That oon may see his lady day by day, 
But in a prison he moot dwelle alway; 

Sk., A, 1289-1314; 1325-1328; 1337-1340; 1347-13SO| 



THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 297 

That other wher him Hst may ryde or go, 
But seen his lady shal he nevere-mo. 
Now demeth as yow Hste, ye that can, 
For I wol telle forth as I bigan. 

Explicit prima pars. Sequitur pars secunda. 



Whan that Arcite to Thebes comen was, 

Ful ofte a day he swelte and seyde ''Alias!" 

For seen his lady shal he nevere-mo. 

And shortly to concluden al his wo, 

So niuche sorwe had nevere creature 

That is, or shal, whyl that the world may dure. 

His sleep, his mete, his drinke, is him biraft, 

That lene he wex and drye as is a shaft. 

His eyen holwe, and grisly to biholde; 

His hewe falwe, and pale as asshen colde, 

And solitarie he was, and evere allone. 

And wailling al the night making his mone. 

And if he herde song or instrument. 

Then wolde he wepe, he mighte nat be stent. 

So feble eek were his spirits and so lowe. 

And chaunged so, that no man coude knowe 

His speche nor his vois though men it herde. 

And in his gere for al the world he ferde 

Nat oonly lyk the loveres maladye 

Of hereos, but rather lyk manye 

Engendred of humour malencolyk,^ 

Biforen in his celle fantastyk. ^^^ ' 

And shortly, turned was al up-so-doun 

Bothe habit and eek disposicioun 

Of him, this woful lover Daun Arcite. 

What sholde I al-day of his wo endyte? 
Whan he endured had a yeer or two 
This cruel torment and this peyne and wo 
At Thebes in his contree as I seyde, 
Up-on a night in sleep as he him leyde 

Sk.,A, 1351-1384 



298 CHAUCER 423-460 

Him thoughte how that the winged god Mercurie 
Biforn him stood, and bad him to be murye. 
His slepy yerde in hond he bar uprighte; 
An hat he werede up-on his heres brighte. 
Arrayed was this god, as he took keep, 
As he was whan that Argus took his sleep; - 
And seyde him thus: "To Athenes shaltou wende. 
Ther is thee shapen of thy wo an ende." 
And with that word Arcite wook and sterte. 
"Now trewely, how sore that me smerte," 
Quod he, "to Athenes right now wol I fare; 
Ne for the drede of deeth shal I nat spare 
To see my lady that I love and serve. 
In hir presence I recche nat to sterve." 

And with that word he caughte a greet mirour, 
And saugh that chaunged was al his colour, 
And saugh his visage al in another kinde. 
And right anoon it ran him in his minde 
That sith his face was so disfigured, 
Of maladye, the which he had endured, 
He mighte wel, if that he bar him lowe. 
Live in Athenes evere-more unknowe 
And seen his lady wel ny day by day. 
And right anon he chaunged his array, 
And cladde him as a povre laborer, 
And al allone, save oonly a squyer. 
That knew his privetee and al his cas, 
Which was disgysed povrely as he was, 
To Athenes is he goon the nexte Way. 
And to the court he wente up-on a day, 
And at the gate he profreth his servyse 
To drugge and drawe what so men wol devyse. 
And shortly of this matere for to seyn, 
He fil in office with a chamberleyn, 
The which that dwelling was with Emelye. 
For he was wys, and coude soon aspye 
Of every servaunt which that serveth here. 
Wel coude he hewen wode, and water bere; 

Sk.. A. 1385-1422 



461-498 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 299 

For he was yong and mighty for the nones, 

And ther-to he was strong and big of bones 

To doon that any wight can him devyse. 

A yeer or two he was in this servyse, 

Page of the chambre of Emelye the brighte, 

And " Philostrate " he seide that he highte. 

But half so wel biloved a man as he 

Ne was ther nevere in court of his degree; 

He was so gentii of condicioun 

That thurghoute al the court was his renoun. 

They seyden that it were a charitee 

That Theseus wolde erihauncen his degree, 

And putten him in w^orshipful servyse 

Ther as he mighte his vertu exercyse. 

And thus, with-in a whyle, his name is spronge 

Bothe of his dedes and his goode tonge, 

That Theseus hath taken him so neer 

That of his chambre he made him a squyer, 

And yaf him gold to mayntene his degree. 

And eek men broghte him out of his contree 

From yeer to yeer ful prively his rente; 

But honestly and slyly he it spente 

That no man wondred how that he it hadde. 

And three yeer in this wyse his lyf he ladde, 

And bar him so in pees and eek in werre, 

Ther nas no man that Theseus hath derre. 

And in this blisse lete I now Arcite, 

And speke I wol of Palamon a lyte. 

In derknesse and horrible and strong prisoun 
This seven yeer hath seten Palamoun, 
Forpyned what for wo and for distresse. 
Who feleth double sore and hevinesse 
But Palamon, that love destreyneth so 
That wood out of his wit he gooth for wo? 
And eek therto he is a prisoner 
Perpetually, noght oonly for a yeer. 
Who coude ryme in English proprely 
His martirdom? For so the, it am nat I; 

Sk., A, 1423-1460 



300 CHAUCER 499-536 

Therfore I passe as lightly as I may. 

It fel that in the seventhe yeer, in May, 
The thridde night (as olde bokes seyn 
That al this storie tellen more pleyn), 
Were it by aventure or destinee — 
As whan a thing is shapen it shal be — 
That, sone after the midnight, Palamoun 
By helping of a freend brak his prisoun 
And fieeth the citee faste as he may go. 
For he had yive his gayler drinke so 
Of a clarree, maad of a certeyn wyn 
With nercotikes and opie of Thebes fyn, 
That al that night, thogh that men wolde him shake, 
The gayler sleep, he mighte nat awake. 
And thus he fleeth as faste as evere he may. 
The night was short, and faste by the day, 
That nedes-cost he moste him-selven hyde. 
And til a grove faste ther besyde 
With dredful foot than stalketh Palamoun. 
For shortly this was his opinioun. 
That in that grove he wolde him hyde al day. 
And in the night than wolde he take his way 
To Thebes-ward, his freendes for to preye 
On Theseus to helpe him to werreye. 
And shortly, outher he wolde lese his lyf, 
Or winnen Emelye un-to his wyf . 
This is theffect and his entente pleyn. 

Now wol I torne un-to Arcite ageyn, 
That litel wiste how ny that was his care, 
Til that Fortune had broght him in the snare. 

The bisy larke, messager of day, 
Salueth in hir song the morwe gray; 
And fyry Phebus ryseth up so bright 
That al the orient laugheth of the light. 
And with his stremes dryeth in the greves 
The silver dropes hanging on the leves. 
And Arcite, that is in the court royal 
With Theseus, his squyer principal, 

Sk., A, 1461-1498 



537-574 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 301 

Is risen and loketh on the myrie day. 

And for to doon his observaunce to May, 

Remembring on the poynt of his desyr, 

He on a courser startUng as the fyr 

Is riden in-to the feeldes him to pleye 

Out of the court, were it a myle or tweye. 

And to the grove, of which that I yow tolde, 

By aventure his wey he gan to holde 

To maken him a gerland of the greves, 

Were it of wodebinde or hawethorn-leves, 

And loude he song ageyn the sonne shene: 

**May, with alle thy floures and thy grene, 

Wel-come be thou, faire fresshe May, 

In hope that I som grene gete may." 

And from his courser with a lusty herte 

In-to the grove ful hastily he sterte, 

And in a path he rometh up and doun, 

Ther-as by aventure this Palamoun 

Was in a bush that no man mighte him see, 

For sore afered of his deeth was he. 

No-thing ne knew he that it was Arcite: 

God wot he wolde have trowed it ful lyte. 

But sooth is seyd, gon sithen many yeres. 

That "Feeld hath eyen, and the wode hath eres." 

It is ful fair a man to bere him evene, 

For al-day meteth men at unset stevene. 

Ful Htel woot Arcite of his felawe, 

That was so ny to herknen al his sa^j^e, ' '^ 

For in the bush he sitteth now ful stille. 

Whan that Arcite had romed al his fiUe, 
And songen al the roundel lustily, 
In-to a studie he fil sodeynly ^ j ^ /^aT/aa^, 
As doon thise loveres in hir queyiixe'geres, '"'- 
Now in the croppe, now doun in the breres, 
Now up, now doun, as boket in a welle. 
Right as the Friday, soothly for to telle. 
Now it shyneth, now it reyneth faste. 
Right so can gery Venus overcaste 

Sk., A, 1499-1536 



302 CHAUCER 575-612 

The hertes of hir folk; right as hir day 

Is gerful, right so chaungeth she array. 

Selde is the Friday al the wyke y-lyke. 

Whan that Arcite had songe, he gan to syke, 

And sette him doun with-outen any more. 

"Alas!" quod he, ''that day that I was bore! 

How longe, luno, thurgh thy crueltee, 

Woltow werreyen Thebes the citee? 

Alias ! y-broght is to conf usioun 

The blood royal of Cadme and Amphioun. 

And yet doth luno me wel more shame, 

For I dar noght biknowe myn owne name; 

But ther-as I was wont to highte Arcite, 

Now highte I Philostrate, noght worth a myte. 

And over al this, to sleen me utterly, 

Love hath his fyry darte so brenningly 

Y-stiked thurgh my trewe careful herte, 

That shapen was my deeth erst than my sherte. 

Ye sleen me with your eyen, Emelye: y_J^ 

Ye been the cause wherfore that I dye. ^'^ 

Of al the remenaunt of myn other care 

Ne sette I nat the mountaunce of a tare. 

So that I coude don aught to your plesaunce!" 

And with that word he fil doun in a traunce 

A longe tyme; and after he lip-sterte. 

This Palamoun, that thoughte that thurgh his herte 
He felte a cold swerd sodeynliche glyde. 
For ire he quook, no lenger wolde he byde. 
And whan that he had herd Arcites tale. 
As he were wood, with face deed and pale. 
He sterte him up out of the buskes thikke, 
And seyde, "Arcite, false traitour wikke, 
Now artow hent, that lovest my lady so. 
For whom that I have al this peyne and wo, 
And art my blood, and to my counseil sworn. 
As I ful ofte have told thee heer-biforn, 
And hast by-iaped heer Duk Theseus, 
And falsly chaunged hast thy name thus: 

Sk., A, 1538-1546; 1555-1558; 1563-1586 



613-650 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 303 

I wol be deed or elles thou shalt dye. 

Thou shalt nat love my lady Emelye, 

But I wol love hir only, and riamo; 

For I am Palamoun, thy mortal fo. 

And though that I no wepne have in this place, 

But out of prison am astert"by grace, • 

I drede noght that outher thou shalt dye, 

Or thou ne shalt nat loven Emelye. ^ ^ 

Chees which thou wilt, for thou shalt nat asterte." 

This Arcite, with ful despitous herte. 
Whan he him knew, and had his tale herd, 
As fiers as leoun pulled oute a swerd. 
And seyde thus: "By God that sit above, 
Nere it that thou art sik and wood 'for love. 
And eek that thou no wepne hast in this place. 
Thou sholdest nevere out of this grove pace. 
That thou ne sholdest dyen of myn hond. 
For I defye the seurtee and the bond 
Which that thou seyst that I have maad to thee. 
What, verray fool, think wel that love is free, 
And I wol love hir maugre al thy might! 
But for as muche as thou art a worthy knight. 
And wilnest to darreyne hir by batayle. 
Have heer rnv trouthe, to-morwe I wol nat fayle, 
With-outen witing of any other wight. 
That heer I wol be founden as a knight. 
And bringen barneys right y-nough for thee; 
And chees the beste, and leve the worste for me. 
And mete and drinke this night wol I bringe 
Y-nough for thee, and clothes for thy beddinge. 
And if so be that thou my lady winne. 
And slee me in this wode ther I am inne. 
Thou mayst wel have thy lady, as for me." 
This Palamon answerde, "I graunte thee." 
And thus they been departed til a-morwe, 
When ech of hem had leyd his feith to borwe. 

O Cupide, out of alle charitee! 
O regne, that wolt no felawe have with thee! 

Sk., A, 1587-1624 



304 CHAUCER 651-688 

Ful sooth is seyd, that love ne lordshipe 
Wol noght, his th^nkes, have no felaweshipe; 
Wei finden that Arcite and Palariioun. 
Arcite is riden anon un-to the toun, 
And on the morwe er it wer^ dayes light, 
Ful prively two harneys hath he dight, 
Bothe suffisaunt and mete to darreyne 
The bataille in the feeld bitwix hem tweyne, 
And on his hors, allone as he was born, 
He carieth al this harneys him biforn; 
And in the grove, at tyme and place y-set. 
This Arcite and this Palamon ben met. 

The destinee, ministre general, 
That executeth in the world over-al 
The purveyaunce that God hath seyn biforn. 
So strong it is that though the world had sworn 
The contrarie of a thing by ye or nay, 
Yet somtyme it shal fallen on a day 
That falleth nat eft with-in a thousand yeer. 
For certeinly, our appetytes heer. 
Be it of werre or pees or hate or love, 
Al this is reuled by the sighte above. 
This mene I now by mighty Theseus, 
That for to hunten is so desirous. 
And namely at the grete hert in May, 
That in his bed ther daweth him no day 
That he nis clad and redy for to ryde 
With hunte and horn, and houndes him bisyde. 
For in his hunting hath he swich delyt 
That it is al his loye and appetyt 
To been him-self the grete hertes bane; "" 
For after Mars he serveth now Diane. 

Cleer was the day, as I have told er this, 
And Theseus with alle loye and blis 
With his Ipolita, the faire queue. 
And Emelye, clothed al in grene. 
On hunting be they riden royally. 
And to the grov^ that stood ful faste by, 

Sk., A, 1625-1636; 1663-1688 



689-726 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 305 

In which ther was an hert, as men him tolde, 
Duk Theseus the streighte wey hath holde. 
And to the launde he rydeth him ful right; 
For thider was the hert wont have his flight, 
And over a brook, aijid so forth on his weye. 
This duk wol han a cours at him or tweye, 
With houndes swiche as that him Hst comaunde. 

And whan this duk was come un-to the launde, 
Under the sonne he loketh, and anon 
He was war of Arcite and Palamon, 
That foughten breme as it were bores two. 
The brighte swerdes wenten to and fro 
So hidously that with the leeste strook 
It semed as it wolde felle an ook; 
But what they were, no-thing he ne woot. 
This duk his courser with his spores smoot, 
And at a stert he was bitwix hem two, 
And pulled oute a swerd and cryed, ''Ho! 
Namore, up peyne of lesing of your heed. 
By mighty Mars, he shal anon be deed 
That smyteth any strook that I may seen! 
But telleth me what mister men ye been, 
That been so hardy for to lighten heer 
With-outen luge or other officer, 
As it were in a listes royally?" 

This Palamon answerde hastily, 
And seyde, ''Sir, what nedeth wordes mo? 
We have the deeth deserved bothe two. 
Two woful wrecches been we, two caytyves, 
That been encombred of our owne lyves; 
And as thou art a rightful lord and luge, 
Ne yif us neither mercy ne refuge. 
But slee me first, for seynte charitee; 
But slee my felawe eek as wel as me. 
Or slee him first; for though thou knowe it lyte. 
This is thy mortal fo, this is Arcite, 
That fro thy lond is banished on his heed, 
For which he hath deserved to be deed. 

Sk., A, 1689-1726 



306 CHAUCER 727-764 

For this is he that cam un-to thy gate, 

And seyde that he highte Philostrate. 

Thus hath he laped thee ful many a yeer, 

And thou hast maked him thy chief squyer; 

And this is he that loveth Emelye. 

For sith the day is come that I shal dye, 

I make pleynly my confessioun 

That I am thilke woful Palamoun 

That hath thy prison broken wikkedly. 

I am thy mortal fo, and it am I ."iJ'-^^^^ ^ 

That loveth so hote Emelye the brighte 

That I wol dye present in hir sighte. 

Therfore I axe deeth and my luwyse; 

But slee my felawe in the same wyse, 

For bothe han we deserved to be slayn." 

This worthy duk answerde anon agayn, 
And seyde, "This is a short conclusioun: 
Your owne mouth by your confessioun 
Hath dampned you, and I wol it recorde. 
^ i,j^ It nedeth noght to pyne yow with the corde. 
■%^^-^\q shul be deed, by mighty Mars the rede!" 

The quene anon, for verray wommanhede, 
Gan for to wepe, and so did Emelye, 
And alle the ladies in the companye. 
Gret pitee was it, as it thoughte hem alle, 
That evere swich a chaunce sholde falle; 
For gentil men they were, of greet estat, 
And no-thing but for love was this debat. 
And sawe hir blody woundes wyde and sore, 
And alle cryden, bothe lasse and more, 
"Have mercy, lord, up-on us wommen alle!" 
And on hir Bare knees adoun they falle. 
And wolde have kist his feet ther-as he stood, 
Til at the laste aslaked was his mood; 

-For pitee renneth sone in gentil herte. 

And though he first for ire quook and sterte. 

He hath considered shortly in a clause 

The trespas of hem bothe, and eek the cause. 

Sk., A, 1727-1764 



765-802 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 307 

And al-though that his ire hir gilt accused, 

Yet in his reson he hem bothe excused; 

As thus: he thoghte wel that every man 

Wol helpe him-self in love if that he can, 

And eek delivere him-self out of prisoun; 

And eek his herte had compassioun a1r I^, 

Of wommen, for they wepen evere in oon; 

And in his gentil herte he thoghte anoon, 

And softe un-to him-self he seyde, ''Fy 

Up-on a lord that wol have no mercy! 

But been a leoun bothe in word and dede 

To hem that been in repentaunce and drede 

As wel as to a proud despitous man 

That wol maynteyne that he first bigan! 

That lord hath litel of discrecioun 

That in swich cas can no divisioun 

But weyeth pryde and humblesse after oon." 

And shortly whan his ire is thus agoon, 

He gan to loken up with eyen lighte. 

And spak thise same wordes al on highte: 

''The God of Love, a! henedicitel 

How mighty and how greet a lord is he! 

Lo heer, this Arcite and this Palamoun, 

That qiiitly weren out of my prisoun, 

And mighte han lived in Thebes royally, 

And witen I am hir mortal enemy, 

And that hir deeth lyth in my might also, 

And yet hath Love, maugree hir eyen two, 

Y-broght hem hider bothe for to dye! 

Now loketh, is nat that an heigh folye? 

Who may been a fool but-if he love? 

Bihold, for Goddes sake that sit above, 

Se how they blede! Be they noght wel arrayed? 

Thus hath hir lord, the God of Love, y-payed 

Hir wages and hir fees for hir servyse! 

And yet they wenen for to been ful wyse 

That serven Love, for aught that may bifalle! 

But this is yet the beste game of alle, 

Sk., A, 1765-1786; 1791-1806 



308 CHAUCER 803-84o 

That she, for whom they han this loHtee, 

Can hem ther-fore as muche thank as me; 

She woot namore of al this hote fare, 

By God, than woot a cokkow or an hare! 

But al mot been assayed, hoot or cold; 

A man mot been a fool, or yong or old: 

I woot it by my-self ful yore agoon; 

For in my tyme a servant was I oon. 

And therfore sin I knowe of Loves peyne, 

And woot how sore it can a man distreyne, 

As he that hath ben caught ofte in his las, 

I yow foryeve al hoolly this trespas 

At requeste of the quene that kneleth here, 

And eek of Emelye, my suster dere. 

And ye shul bothe anon un-to me swere 

That nevere-mo ye shul my contree dere, 

Ne make werre up-on me night ne day. 

But been my freendes in al that ye may; 

I yow foryeve this trespas every del." 

And they him swore his axing fayre and wel, 

And him of lordshipe and of mercy preyde, 

And he hem graunteth grace, and thus he seyde: 

"To speke of royal linage and richesse. 
Though that she were a quene or a princesse, 
Ech of yow bothe is worthy, doutelees. 
To wedden whan t3ane is, but nathelees 
I speke as for my suster Emelye, 
For whom ye havQ this stryf and lelousye. 
Ye woot your-self she may not wedden two 
At ones, though ye lighten evere-mo; 
That oon of yow, al be him looth or leef. 
He moot go pypen in an ivy-leef . 
And for-thy I yow putte in this degree, 
That ech of yow shal have his destinee 
As him is shape; and herkneth in what wyse. 
Lo, heer your ende of that I shal devyse. 

"My wille is this, for plat conclusioun, 
With-outen any repUcacioun, — 

Sk., A, 1807-1838; 1841-1846 



841-874 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 309 

If that yow lyketh, tak it for the beste — 
That everich of yow shal gon wher him leste 
Frely, with-outen raunsoun or daunger, 
And this day fifty wykes, fer ne ner, 
Everich of yow shal bringe an hundred knightes, 
Armed for Hstes up at alle rightes, 
Al redy to darreyne hir by bataille. 
And this bihote I yow with-outen faille 
Up-on my trouthe and as I am a knight, 
That whether of yow bothe that hath might, 
This is to seyn, that whether he or thou 
May with his hundred, as I spak of now, 
Sleen his contrarie or out of Hstes dryve, 
Him shal I yeve Emelya to wyve. 
This is your ende and your conclusioun." 
Who loketh lightly now but Palamoun? 
Who springeth up for loye but Arcite? 
Who couthe telle, or who couthe it endyte, 
The loye that is maked in the place 
Whan Theseus hath doon so fair a grace? 
But doun on knees wente every maner wight, 
And thanked him with al her herte and might, 
And namely the Thebans ofte sythe. 
And thus with good hope and with herte blythe 
They take hir leve, and hom-ward gonne they ryde 
To Thebes, with his olde walles wyde. 

Explicit secunda pars. Sequitur pars tercia. 



I trowe men wolde deme it necligence, 
If I foryete to tellen the dispence 
Of Theseus, that goth so bisily 
To maken up the Hstes royally. 
That swich a noble theatre as it was 
I dar wel seyn that in this world ther nas. 
The circuit a myle was aboute. 
Walled of stoon, and diched al with-oute. 

Sk., A, 1847-1860; 1869-1888 



310 CHAUCER 875-912 

Round was the shap in manere of compas, 
Ful of degrees the heighte of sixty pas, 
That whan a man was set on o degree 
He lette nat his felawe for to see. 

Est-ward ther stood a gate of marbel whyt, 
West-ward right swich another in the opposit. 
And shortly to concluden, swich a place 
Was noon in erthe as in so litel space; 
For in the lond ther nas no crafty man, 
That geometric or ars-metrik can, 
Ne purtreyour ne kerver of images, 
That Theseus ne yaf him mete and wages 
The theatre for to maken and devyse. 
And for to doon his ryte and sacrifyse, 
He est-ward hath up-on the gate above 
In worship of Venus, goddesse of love, 
Don make an auter and an oratorie; 
And west-ward, in the minde and in memorie 
Of Mars, he maked hath right swich another. 
That coste largely of gold a fother. 
And north-ward in a touret on the wal. 
Of alabastre whyt and reed coral 
An oratorie riche for to see 
In worship of Dyane of chastitee 
Hath Theseus don wroght in noble wyse. 

But yet had I foryeten to devyse 
The noble kerving and the portreitures. 
The shap, the countenaunce, and the figures. 
That weren in thise oratories three. 

First in the temple of Venus maystow see 
Wroght on the wal, ful pitous to biholde. 
The broken ^lepes and the Sykes colde, 
The sacred teres and the waymentinge, 
The fyry strokes of the desiringe 
That Loves servaunts in this lyf enduren. 
The othes that hir covenants assuren, 
Plesaunce and Hope, Desyr, Fool-hardinesse, 
Beautee and Youthe, Bauderie, Richesse, 

Sk., A, 1889-1926 



913-950 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 311 

^:, Charmes and Force, Lesinges, Flaterye, 
Dispense, Disynesse, and lelousye 
That wered of yelwe goldes a gerland, 
And a cokkow sitting on hir hand, 
Festes, instruments, caroles, daunces. 
Lust and Array, and alle the circumstaunces 
Of love which that I rekne and rekne shal, 
By ordre weren peynted on the wal, 
And mo than I can make of mencioun. 
For soothly al the mount of Citheroun, 
Ther Venus hath hir principal dwellinge, 
Was shewed on the wal in portreyinge, 
With al the gardin and the lustinesse. 
Nat was foryeten the porter Ydelnesse, 
Ne Narcisus the faire of yore agon, 
Ne yet the folye of King Salamon. 

The statue of Venus, glorious for to see, 
Was naked fleting in the large see, 
And fro the navele doun al covered was 
With wawes grene, and brighte as any glas. 
A citole in hir right hand hadde she. 
And on hir heed, ful semely for to see, 
A rose gerland, fresh and wel smellinge; 
Above hir heed hir dowves flikeringe. 
Biforn hir stood hir sone Cupido, 
Up-on his shuldres winges had he two; 
And blind he was as it is ofte sene; 
A bowe he bar and arwes brighte and kene. 

Why sholde I noght as wel eek telle yow al 
The portreiture that was up-on the wal 
With-in the temple of mighty Mars the rede? 
Al peynted was the wal in lengthe and brede 
Lyk to the estres of the grisly place 
That highte the grete temple of Mars in Trace, 
In thilke colde frosty regioun 
Ther-as Mars hath his sovereyn mansioun. 

First on the wal was peynted a forest 
In which ther dwelleth neither man ne beest, 

Sk., A, 1927-1942; 1955-1976 



312 CHAUCER 951-988 

With knotty, knarry, bareyn trees olde 
Of stubbes sharpe and hidous to biholde, 
In which ther ran a rumbel and a swough 
As though a storm shold^ bresten every bough. 
And downward from an hil, under a bente, 
Ther stood the temple of Mars armipotente, 
Wroght al of burned steel, of which thentree 
Was long and streit, and gastly for to see. 
And ther-oute cam a rage and such a vese 
That it made al the gates for to rese. 
The northren light in at the dores shoon; 
For windowe on the wal ne was ther noon 
Thurgh which men mighten any light discerne. 
The dores were alle of adamant eterne, 
Y-clenched overthwart and endelong 
With iren tough; and for to make it strong, 
Every piler the temple to sustene 
Was tonne-greet of iren bright and shene. 
Ther saugh I first the derke imagininge 
Of Felonye, and al the compassinge; 
The cruel Ire reed as any glede; """^ 
The pykepurs, and eek the pale Drede; 
The smyler with the knyf under the cloke; 
The shepne brenning with the blake smoke; 
The treson of the mordring in the bed; , , 
The open Werre with woundes al bi-bled; 
Cbntek, with blody knyf and sharp manace; 
Al ful of chirking was that sory place. 
The sleer of him-self yet saugh I ther, 
His herte-blood hath bathed al his heer; 
The nayl y-driven in the shode a-night; 
The colde Deeth with mouth gaping up-right. 
Amiddes of the temple sat Meschaunce 
With Disconfort and Sory Contenaunce. 
Yet saugh I Woodnesse laughing in his rage; 
Armed Compleinte, Out-hees, and fiers Outrage. 
The careyne in the bush with throte y-corve; 
A thousand slayn, and nat of qualm y-storve; 

Sk., A, 1977-2014 



989-1026 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 313 

The tiraunt with the preye by force y-raft; 
The toun destroyed, ther was no-thing laft. 

The statue of Mars up-on a carte stood, 
Armed, and loked grim as he were wood. 
And over his heed ther shynen two figures 
Of sterres, that been cleped in scriptures 
That oon Puella, that other Rubeus. 
This god of armes was arrayed thus: 
A wolf ther stood biforn him at his feet 
With eyen rede, and of a man he eet; 
With sotil pencel was depeynt this storie 
In redouting of Mars and of his glorie. 

Now to the temple of Diane the chaste 
As shortly as I can I wol me haste 
To telle yow al the descripcioun. 
Depeynted been the walles up and doun 
Of hunting and of shamfast chastitee. 
Ther saugh I how woful Calistopee, 
Whan that Diane agreved was with here, 
Was turned from a womman til a here, 
And after was she maad the lode-sterre; 
Thus was it peynted, I can say yow no ferre. 
Hir sone is eek a sterre, as men may see. 
Ther saugh I Dane, y-turned til a tree: 
I mene nat the goddesse Diane, 
But Penneus doughter which that highte Dane. 
Ther saugh I Attheon an hert y-maked, 
For vengeaunce that he saugh Diane al naked; 
I saugh how that his houndes have him caught 
And freten him, for that they knewe him naught. 
Yet peynted was a litel forther-moor, 
How Atthalante hunted the wilde boor, 
And Meleagre and many another mo. 
For which Diane wroghte him care and wo. 
Ther saugh I many another wonder storie, 
The which me list nat drawen to memorie. 

This goddesse on an hert f ul hye seet, 
With smale houndes al aboute hir feet; 

Sk., A, 2015-2016; 2041-2076 



314 CHAUCER 1027-1064 

And undernethe hir feet she had a mone, 

Wexing it was and sholde wanie sone. 

In gaude grene hir statue clothed was, 

With bowe in honde, and arwes in a cas. 

Hir eyen caste she ful lowe adoun, 

Ther Pluto hath his derke regioun. 

A womman travailing was hir biforn, 

But for hir child so longe was unborn 

Ful pitously Lucyna gan she calle, 

And seyde, ''Help, for thou mayst best of alle! " 

Wei couthe he peynten lyfiy that it wroghte, 

With many a florin he the hewes boghte. 

Now been thise listes maad, and Theseus, 
That at his grete cost arrayed thus 
The temples and the theatre every del. 
Whan it was doon, him lyked wonder wel. 
But stinte I wol of Theseus a lyte, 
And speke of Palamon and of Arcite. 

The day approcheth of hir retorninge, 
That everich sholde an hundred knightes bringe 
The bataille to darreyne, as I yow tolde; 
And til Athenes, hir covenant to holde, 
Hath everich of hem broght an hundred knightes 
Wel armed for the werre at alle rightes, 
Everich after his opinioun. 

Ther maistow seen coming with Palamoun 
Ligurge him-self, the grete king of Trace. 
Blak was his berd, and manly was his face; 
The cercles of his eyen in his heed. 
They gloweden bitwixe yelow and reed; 
And lyk a griffon loked he aboute 
With kempe heres on his browes stoute; 
His limes grete, his braunes harde and stronge. 
His shuldres brode, his armes rounde and longe. 
And as the gyse was in his contree, 
Ful hye up-on a char of gold stood he. 
With foure whyte boles in the trays. 
In-stede of cote-armure over his harnays, 

Sk., A, 2077-2100; 2127-2140 



1065-1102 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 315 

With nayles yelwe and brighte as any gold 

He had a beres skin, col-blak for old. 

His longe heer was kembd bihinde his bak, 

As any ravenes f ether it shoon for blak; 

A wreeth of gold arm-greet, of huge ^^^ighte, 

Upon his heed, set ful of stones brighte. 

Of fyne rubies and of dyamaunts. 

Aboute his char ther wenten whyte alaunts, 

Twenty and mo, as grete as any steer, 

To hunten at the leoun or the deer, 

And folwed him with mosel faste y-bounde, 

Colers of gold, and torets fyled rounde.^ 

An hundred lordes had he in his route ' ^• 

Armed ful wel, with hertes sterne and stoute. 

With Arcita, in stories as men finde. 
The grete Emetreus, the king of Inde, 
Up-on a stede bay, trapped in steel, 
Covered in cloth of gold diapred weel. 
Cam ryding lyk the god of armes. Mars. 
His cote-armure was of cloth of Tars, 
Couched with perles whyte and rounde and grete. 
His sadel was of brend gold newe y-bete; 'i^ d 
A mantelet upon his shuldre hanginge 
Bret-ful of rubies rede, as fyr sparklinge. 
His crispe heer lyk ringes was y-ronne. 
And that was yelow, and glitered as the sonne. 
His nose was heigh, his eyen bright citryn, " 
His lippes rounde, his colour was sangwyn, 
A fewe fraknes in his face y-spreynd, 
Betwixen yelow and somdel blak y-meynd,^ 
And as a leoun he his loking caste. 
Of fyve and twenty yeer his age I caste. ' U 
His herd w^as wel bigonne for to springe; 
His voys was as a trompe thunderinge. 
Up-on his heed he wered of laurer grene 
A gerland freshe and lusty for to sene. 
Up-on his hand he bar for his deduyt 
An egle tame, as any lilie whyt. 

Sk., A, 2141-2178 



316 CHAUCER 1103-1140 

An hundred lordes had he with him there, 
Al armed, sauf hir hedd^s, in al hir gere 
Ful richely in alle maner thinges. 
For trusteth wel that dukes, erles, kinges, 
Were gadered in this noble companye 
For love and for encrees of chivalrye. 
Aboute this king ther ran on every part 
Ful many a tame leoun and lepart. 
And in this wyse thise lordes alle and some 
Ben on the Sonday to the citee come 
Aboute pryme, and in the toun alight. 

This Theseus, this duk, this worthy knight, 
Whan he had broght hem in-to his citee, 
And inned hem, everich in his degree. 
He festeth hem and dooth so greet labour 
To esen hem, and doon hem al honour. 
That yet men weneth that no mannes wit 
Of noon estat ne coude amenden it. 

The Sonday night, er day bigan to springe, 
When Palamon the larke herde singe — 
Although it nere nat day by houres two, 
Yet song the larke and Palamon also — 
With holy herte and with an heigh corage 
He roos to wenden on his pilgrimage 
Un-to the blisful Citherea benigne, 
I mene Venus, honurable and digne. 
And in hir houre he walketh forth a pas 
Un-to the listes ther hir temple was, 
And doun he kneleth, and with humble chere 
And herte soor he seyde as ye shul here. 

"Fairest of faire, O lady myn, Venus, 
Doughter to love and spouse of Vulcanus, 
Thou glader of the mount of Citheroun, 
For thilke love thou haddest to Adoun, 
Have pitee of my bittre teres smerte. 
And tak myn humble preyere at thyn herte. 
Alias ! I ne have no langage to telle 
Theffectes ne the torments of myn helle. 

Sk., A, 2179-2196; 2209-2228 



1141-1178 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 317 

Myn herte may myne harmes nat biwreye; 
I am so confus that I can noght seye. 
But mercy, lady bright, that knowest weel 
My thought, and seest what harmes that I feel, 
Considere al this, and rewe up-on my sore, 
As wisly as I shal for everemore 
Emforth my might thy trewe servant be, 
And holden werre alwey with chastitee. 
That make I myn avow, so ye me helpe. 
I kepe noght of armes for to yelpe, 
Ne I ne axe nat to-morwe to hav§ victoria 
Ne renoun in this cas, ne veyne glorie 
Of pris of armes blowen up and doun, 
But I wolde have fully possessioun 
Of Emelye and dye in thy servyse. 
Find thou the manere how and in what wyse. 
I recche nat, but it may bettre be. 
To have victorie of hem or they of me, 
So that I have my lady in myne armes. 
For though so be that Mars is god of armes. 
Your vertu is so greet in hevene above 
That if yow list I shal wel hav^ my love. 
Thy temple wol I worshipe evermo, 
And on thyn auter, wher I ryde or go, 
I wol don sacrifice and fyres bete. 
And if ye wol nat so, my lady swete. 
Than preye I thee, to-morwe with a spere 
That Arcita me thurgh the herte bere. 
Than rekke I noght, w^han I hav^ lost my lyf. 
Though that Arcita winne hir to his wyf. 
This is theffect and ende of my preyere, 
Yif me my love, thou blisful lady dere." 
Whan thorisoun was doon of Palamon, 
His sacrifice he did, and that anon, 
Ful pitously with alle circunstaunces, 
Al telle I noght as now his observaunces. 
But atte laste the statue of Venus shook, 
And made a signe, wher-by that he took 

Sk., A, 2229-2266 



318 CHAUCER 1179-1216 

That his preyere accepted was that day. 

For thogh the signe shewed a delay, 

Yet wiste he wel that graunted was his bone; 

And with glad herte he wente him hoom ful sone. 

The thridde houre inequal that Palamon 
Bigan to Venus temple for to goon, 
Up roos the sonne and up roos Emelye, 
And to the temple of Diane gan hye. 
Hir maydens, that she thider with hir ladde, 
Ful redily with hem the fyr they hadde, 
Thencens, the clothes, and the remenant al 
That to the sacrifyce longen shal; 
The homes ful of meth as was the gyse; 
Ther lakked noght to doon hir sacrifyse. 
Hir brighte heer was kempt, untressed al; 
A coroune of a grene 00k cerial 
Up-on hir heed was set ful fair and mete. 
Two fyres on the auter gan she bete, 
And did hir thinges, as men may biholde 
In Stace of Thebes, and thise bokes olde. 
Whan kindled was the fyr, with pitous chere 
Un-to Diane she spak as ye may here. 

"O chaste goddesse of the wodes grene, 
To whom bothe hevene and erthe and see is sene, 
Quene of the regne of Pluto derk and lowe, 
Goddesse of maydens, that myn herte hast knowe: 
I am, thou woost, yet of thy companye, 
A mayde, and love hunting and venerye. 
And for to walken in the wodes wilde. 
And noght to been a wyf and be with childe. 
Noght wol I knowe companye of man. 
Now help me, lady, sith ye may and can. 
For tho thre formes that thou hast in thee. 
And Palamon, that hath swich love to me, 
And eek Arcite, that loveth me so sore, 
This grace I preye thee with-oute more, 
As sende hem love and pees bitwixe hem two; 
And fro me turne awey hir hertes so 

Sk., A, 2267-2280; 2289-2300; 2307-2318 



1217-1254 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 319 

That al hir hote love and hir desyr, 
And al hir bisy torment and hir fyr, 
Be queynt, or turned in another place. 
And if so be thou wolt not do me grace, 
Or if my destinee be shapen so 
That I shal nedes have oon of hem two, 
As sende me him that most desireth me. 
Bihold, goddesse of clene chastitee, 
The bittre teres that on my chekes falle. 
Sin thou art mayde, and keper of us alle, 
My maydenhede thou keep and wel conserve, 
And whyl I live a mayde, I wol thee serve." 

The fyres brenne up-on the auter clere, 
Whyl Emelye was thus in hir preye^e; 
But sodeinly she saugh a sighte queynte. 
For right anon oon of the fyres queynte 
And quiked agayn, and after that anon 
That other fyr was queynt and al agon. 
And as it queynte, it made a whistelinge, 
As doon thise wete brondes in hir brenninge, 
And at the brondes ende out-ran anoon 
As it were blody dropes many oon; 
For which so sore agast was Emelye 
That she was wel ny mad, and gan to crye, 
For she ne wiste what it signifyed, 
But only for the fere thus hath she cryed 
And weep that it was pitee for to here. 
And ther-with-al Diane gan appere 
With bowe in hond, right as an hunteresse. 
And seyde, " Doghter, stint thyn hevinesse. 
Among the goddes hye it is affermed. 
And by eterne word write and confermed. 
Thou shalt ben wadded un-to oon of tho 
That han for thee so muchel care and wo; 
But un-to w^hich of hem I may nat telle. 
Farwel, for I ne may no lenger dwelle. 
The fyres which that on myn auter brenne 
Shul thee declaren, er that thou go henne, 

Sk., A, 2319-2356 



320 CHAUCER 



1255-1292 



Thyn aventure of love, as in this cas." 
And with that word the arwes in the cas 
Of the goddesse clateren faste and ringe, 
And forth she wente and made a vanisshinge; 
For which this Emelye astoned was, 
And seyde, ''What amounteth this, alias! 
I putte me in thy proteccioun, 
Diane, and in thy disposicioun." 
And hoom she gooth anon the nexte weye. 
This is theffect, ther is namore to seye. 

The nexte houre of Mars folwinge this, 
Arcite un-to the temple walked is 
Of fierse Mars, to doon his sacrifyse 
With alle the rytes of his payen wyse. 
With pitous herte and heigh devocioun, 
Right thus to Mars he seyde his orisoun; 

"O stronge god, that in the regnes colde, 
Of Trace honoured art, and lord y-holde. 
And hast in every regne and every lond 
Of armes al the brydel in thyn hond. 
And hem fortunest as thee list devyse, 
Accept of me my pitous sacrifyse. 
For thilke peyne and thilke hote fyr 
In which thou whylom brendest for desyr, 
Whan that thou usedest the grete beautee 
Of fayre yonge fresshe Venus free. 
And haddest hir in armes at thy wille, 
Al-though thee ones on a tyme misfille 
Whan Vulcanus had caught thee in his las, 
And fond thee ligging by his wyf, alias! 
For thilke sorwe that was in thyn herte. 
Have routhe ds wel up-on my peynes smerte. 
I am yong and unkonning as thou wost, 
And, as I trowe, with love offended most, 
That evere was any lyves creature; 
For she that dooth me al this wo endure 
Ne reccheth nevere wher I sinke or flete. 
And wel I woot, er she me mercy hete, 

Sk., A, 2357-2378; 2383-2398 



1293-1330 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 321 

I moot with strengthe winne hir in the place; 
And wel I woot, withouten help or grace 
Of thee, ne may my strengthe noght availle. 
Than help me, lord, to-morwe in my bataille. 
Thy soverein temple wol I most honouren 
Of any place, and alwey most labouren 
In thy plesaunce and in thy craftes stronge, 
And in thy temple I wol my baner honge, 
And alle the armes of my companye; 
And evere-mo un-to that day I dye, 
Eterne fyr I wol biforn thee finde. 
And eek to this avow I wol me binde: 
My herd, myn heer that hongeth long adoun, 
That nevere yet ne felte offensioun 
Of rasour nor of shere, I wol thee yive, 
And ben thy trewe. servant whyl I live. 
Now lord, have rbuthe up-on my sorwes sore; 
Yif me victorie, I aske thee namore." 

The preyere stinte of Arcita the stronge, 
The ringes on the temple-dore that honge, 
And eek the dores, clatereden ful faste. 
Of which Arcita som-what him agaste. 
The fyres brende up-on the auter brighte, 
That it gan al the temple for to lighte; 
And swete smel the ground anon up-yaf, 
And Arcita anon his hand up-haf. 
And more encens in-to the fyr he caste. 
With othere rytes mo; and atte laste 
The statue of Mars bigan his hauberk ringe. 
And with that soun he herde a murmuringe 
Ful lowe and dim, that sayde thus: "Victorie!" 
For which he yaf to Mars honour and glorie. 
And thus with loye, and hope wel to fare, 
Arcite anon un-to his in is fare. 
As fayn as fowel is of the brighte sonne. 

And right anon swich str^'f ther is bigonne 
For thilke graunting in the hevene above 
Bitwixe Venus, the goddesse of love, 

Sk.. A, 2399-2402; 2407-2440 



322 CHAUCER i33i-i364 

And Mars, the sterne god armipotente, 
That lupiter was bisy it to stente, 
Til that the pale Saturnus the colde, 
That knew so manye of aventures olde, 
Fond in his olde experience an art 
That he ful sone hath plesed every part. 
As sooth is sayd, elde hath greet avantage; 
In elde is bothe wisdom and usage. 

Explicit tercia pars. Sequitur pars quarta. 



Greet was the feste in Athenes that day, 

And eek the lusty seson of that May 

Made every wight to been in swich plesaunce 

That al that Monday lusten they and daunce, 

And spenden it in Venus heigh servyse. 

But by the cause that they sholde ryse 

Erly for to seen the grete fight, 

Unto hir reste wente they at night. 

And on the morwe whan that day gan springe, 

Of hors and barneys, noyse and clateringe 

Ther was in hostelryes al aboute; 

And to the paleys rood ther many a route, v: 

Ther as nede is, they weren no- thing ydel; 

The fomy stedes on the golden brydel 

Gnawing, and faste the armurers also 

With fyle and hamer priking to and fro; 

Yemen on fote, and communes many oon 

With shorte staves, thikke as they may goonj ^^^ 

Pypes, trompes, nakers, clariounes 

That in the bataille blowen blody sounes; 

The paleys ful of peples up and doun, 

Heer three, ther ten, holding hir questioun, 

Divyning of thise Thebane knightes two. 

Somme seyden thus, somme seyde it shal be so; 

Somme helden with him with the blake herd, "^ 

Somme with the balled, somme with the thikke herd; "^ 

Sk., A, 2441-2448; 2483-2494; 2505-2518 



1365-1402 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 323 

Somme sayde he loked grim and he wolde fighte; 
He hath a sparth of twenty pound of wighte. 
Thus was the halle ful of divyninge 
Longe after that the sonne gan to springe. 

The grete Theseus, that of his sleep awaked 
With minstralcye and noyse that was maked, 
Held yet the chambre of his paleys riche , 
Til that the Thebane knightes, bothe y-liche 
Honoured, were into the paleys fet. 
Duk Theseus was at a windowe set. 
Arrayed right as he w^ere a god in trone. 
The peple preesseth thider-ward ful sone 
Him for to seen and doon heigh reverence, 
And eek to herkne his heste and his sentence. 

An heraud on a scaffold made an " ho," 
Til al the noyse of peple w\as y-do; 
And whan he saugh the peple of noyse al stille, 
Tho shewed he the mighty dukes wdlle. 

"The lord hath of his heigh discrecioun 
Considered that it were destruccioun 
To gentil blood to lighten in the gyse 
Of mortal bataille now in this empryse. 
Wherfore to shapen that they shul not dye, 
He wol his firste purpos modifye. 
No man therfore, up peyne of los of lyf, 
No maner shot ne pollax ne short knyf 
Into the listes sende or thider bringe; .»^^ < , , , 
Ne short sw^rd for to stoke, with poynt bytinge, 
j^ No man ne drawe ne bere it by his syde. 
(PJ^^,,^ Ne no man shal un-to his felawe ryde 
>J^ .But o cours, with a sharp y-grounde spere; 
Foyne, if him list, on fote, him-self to were. 
And he that is at meschief shal be take. 
And noght slayn, but be brought un-to the stake 
That shal ben ordeyned on either syde; 
But thider he shal by force, and ther abyde. 
And if so falle the chieftayn be take 
On either syde, or elles slee his make, 

Sk., A, 2519-2556 



324 CHAUCER i403-i44o' 

No lenger shal the turneyinge laste. 
God spede yow; go forth and ley on faste. 
With long^ swerd and with maces fight your fiUe. 
Goth now your wey; this is the lordes wille." 

The voys of peple touchede the hevene, 
So loude cryden they with merye stevene: 
" God save swich a lord that is so good, 
He wilneth no destruccioun of blood!" 
Up goon the trompes and the melodye. 
And to the listes rit the companye 
By ordinaunce, thurgh-oute the citee large, 
Hanged with cloth of gold and nat with sarge. 
Ful lyk a lord this noble duk gan ryde, 
Thise two Thebanes up-on either syde, 
And after rood the quene and Emelye, 
And after that another companye 
Of oon and other, after hir degree. 
And thus they passen thurgh-oute the citee, 
And to the listes come they by tyme. 
It nas not of the day yet fully pryme. 
Whan set was Theseus ful riche and hye, 
Ipolita the quene and Emelye, 
And other ladies in degrees aboute. 
Un-to the seetes preesseth al the route. 
And west-ward thurgh the gates under Marte, 
Arcite and eek the hundred of his parte 
With baner reed is entred right anon; 
And in that selve moment Palamon 
Is under Venus, est- ward in the place, 
With baner whyt, and hardy chere and face. 
In al the world, to seken up and doun. 
So even with-outen variacioun, 
Ther nere swiche companyes tweye. 
For ther nas noon so wys that coude seye 
That any had of other avauntage 
Of worthinesse, ne of estaat, ne age, 
So even were they chosen, for to gesse. 
And in two renges faire they hem dresse. 

Sk., A, 2557-2594 



■1478 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 325 

Whan that hir names rad were everichoon, 
That in hir nombre gyle were ther noon, 
Tho were the gates shet, and cryed was loude, 
''Do now your devoir, yonge knightes proude!" 

The heraudes lefte hir priking up and doun; 
Now ringen trompes loude and clarioun; 
Ther is namore to seyn, but west and est 
In goon the speres ful sadly in arest; 
In goth the sharpe spore in-to the syde. 
Ther seen men who can luste and who can ryde; 
Ther shiveren shaftes up-on sheeldes thikke; 
He feleth thurgh the herte-spoon the prikke. 
Up springen speres twenty foot on highte; 
Oute goon the swerdes as the silver brighte. 
The helmes they to-hewen and to-shrede; 
Oute brest the blood with sterne stremes rede. 
With mighty maces the bones they to-breste. 
He thurgh the thikkeste of the throng gan threste. 
Ther stomblen stedes stronge, and doun goth al. 
He roUeth under foot as dooth a bal. 
He foyneth on his feet with his tronchoun, 
And he him hurtleth with his hors adoun. 
He thurgh the body is hurt and sithen y-take, 
Maugree his heed, and broght un-to the stake, 
As forward was, right ther he moste abyde; 
Another lad is on that other syde. 
And som tyme dooth hem Theseus to reste. 
Hem to refresshe and drinken if hem leste. 
Ful ofte a-day han thise Thebanes two 
Togidre y-met, and wroght his felawe wo; 
Unhorsed hath ech other of hem tweye. 
Ther nas no tygre in the vale of Galgopheye, 
Whan that hir whelp is stole whan it is lyte. 
So cruel on the hunte, as is Arcite 
For lelous herte upon this Palamoun. 
Ne in Belmarye ther nis so fel leoun. 
That hunted is or for his hunger wood, 
Ne of his praye desireth so the blood, 

A, 2595-2632 



326 CHAUCER 1479-1516 

As Palamon to sleen his fo Arcite. . 
The lelous strokes on hir helmes byte; 
Oute renneth blood on bothe hir sydes rede. 

Som tyme an ende ther is of every dede; 
For er the sonne un-to the reste wente, 
The stronge King Emetreus gan hente 
This Palamon as he faugh t with Arcite, 
And made his swerd depe in his flesh to byte; 
, ^ And by the force of twenty is he take 
tt .'vA-u, Unyolden, and y-drawe unto the stake. 
And in the rescous of this Palamoun 
The stronge King Ligurge is born adoun; 
And King Emetreus, for al his strengthe, 
Is born out of his sadel a swerdes lengthe, 
So hitte him Palamon er he were take: 
But al for noght, he was broght to the stake. 
His hardy herte mighte him helpe naught; 
He moste abyde whan that he was caught 
By force and eek by composicioun. 

Who sorweth now but woful Palamoun, 
That moot namore goon agayn to fighte? 
And whan that Theseus had seyn this sighte. 
Un-to the folk that foghten thus echoon 
He cryde, ''Ho! namore, for it is doon! 
I wol be trewe luge, and no partye. 
Arcite of Thebes shal have Emelye, 
That by his fortune hath hir faire y-wonne." 
Anon ther is a noyse of peple bigonne 
For loye of this, so loude and heigh with-alle 
It semed that the listes sholde falle. 

What can now faire Venus doon above? 
What seith she now? What dooth this queue of love? 
But wepeth so for wanting of hir wille 
Til that hir teres in the listes fille; 
She seyde, ''I am ashamed, doutelees." 
Saturnus seyde, ''Doghter, hold thy pees. 
Mars hath his wille, his knight hath al his bone, 
And by myn heed thou shalt ben esed sone." 

Sk., A, 2633-2670 



1517-1554 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 327 

The trompes with the loude minstralcye, 
The heraudes, that ful loude yolle and crye, 
Been in hir wele for loye of Daun Arcite. 
But herkneth me, and stinteth now a lyte, 
Which a miracle ther bifel anon. 

This fierse Arcite hath of his helm y-don, "' ^1 
And on a courser, for to shewe his face, 
He priketh endelong the large place, 
Loking upward up-on this Emelye; 
And she agayn him caste a freendlich ye, 
And she was al his chere, as in his herte. 
Out of the ground a furie infernal sterte. 
From Pluto sent, at requeste of Saturne, 
For which his hors for fere gan to turne, 
And leep asyde, and foundred as he leep; 
And er that Arcite may taken keep, 
He pighte him on the pomel of his heed 
That in the place he lay as he were deed, 
His brest to-Brbsten with his sadel-bowe. 
As blak he lay as any col or crowe, 
So was the blood y-ronnen in his face. 
Anon he was y-born out of the place. 
With herte sore, to Theseus paleys. 
Tho was he corven out of his barneys, 
And in a bed y-brought ful faire and blyve, 
For he was yet in memorie and alyve. 
And alway crying after Emelye. 

Duk Theseus with al his companye 
Is comen hoom to Athenes his citee 
With alle blisse and greet solempnitee. 
Al be it that this aventure was falle, 
He nolde noght disconforten hem alle. 
Men seyde eek that Arcite shal nat dye; 
He shal ben heled of his maladye. 
And of another thing they were as fayn, 
That of hem alle was ther noon y-slayn, 
Al were they sore y-hurt, and namely oon 
That with a spere was thirled his brest-boon. 

Sk., A, 2671-2680; 2683-2710 



328 CHAUCER . 1555-1592 

For which anon Duk Theseus leet crye, 
To stinten alle rancour and envye, 
The gree as wel of o syde as of other, - ^^^ r 
And either syde y-lyk, as otheres brother; 
And yaf hem yiftes after hir degree, 
And fully heeld a feste dayes three; 
And conveyed the kinges worthily 
^-^jOut of his toun a lournee largely. 

And hoom wente every man the righte way. 
Ther was namore, but " Far wel, have good day!" 
Of this bataille I wol namore endyte, 
But speke of Palamon and of Arcite. 

Swelleth the brest of Arcite, and the sore 
Encreesseth at his herte more and more. 
The clothered blood, for any lechecraft, 
Corrupteth and is in his bouk y-laft. 
And certeinly, ther nature wol nat wirche, 
Far-wel, phisyk! go ber the man to chirche! 
This al and som, that Arcita mot dye. 
For which he sendeth after Emelye, 
And Palamon that was his cosin dere. 
Than seyde he thus, as ye shul after here: 

"Naught may the woful spirit in myn herte 
Declare o poynt of all^ my sorwes smerte 
To yow, my lady, that I love most; 
But I biqueth^ the service of my gost 
To yow aboven every creature, 
Sin that my lyf ne may no lenger dure. 
Alias, the wo! alias, the peynes stronge, 
That I for yow have suffred, and so longe! 
Alias, the deeth! alias, myn Emelye! 
Alias, departing of our companye! 
Alias, myn hertes queue! alias, my wyf ! 
Myn hertes lady, ender of my lyf! 
What is this world? What asketh men to have? 
Now with his lov^, now in his colde grave 
AUonQ, with-outen any companye. 
Far-wel, my swete fo! myn Emelye! 

Sk., A, 2731-2746; 2759-2780 



J 



5-1630 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 329 

And softe tak me in your armes tweye, 
For love of God, and herkneth what I seye. 

''I have heer with my cosin Palamon 
Had stryf and rancour, many a day a-gon, 
For love of yow and for my lelousye. 
And lupiter so wis my soule gye, 
To speken of a servant proprely, 
With alle circumstaunces trewely, 
That is to seyn, trouthe, honour, and knighthede. 
Wisdom, humblesse, estaat, and heigh kinrede, 
Fredom, and al that longeth to that art, 
So lupiter have of my soule part, 
As in this world right now ne knowe I non 
So worthy to ben loved as Palamon, 
That serveth yow and wol don al his lyf. 
And if that evere ye shul been a wyf , 
Foryet nat Palamon, the gentil man." 
And with that word his speche faille gan. 
For from his feet up to his brest was come 
The cold of deeth, that had him overcome. 
And yet more-over in his armes two 
The vital strengthe is lost and al ago. 
Only the intellect, with-outen more. 
That dwelled in his herte syk and sore, 
Gan faillen when the herte felte deeth, 
Dusked his eyen two and failled breeth. 
But on his lady yet caste he his ye; 
His laste word was, ''Mercy, Emelye!" 
His spirit chaunged hous, and wente ther, 
As I cam nevere, I can nat tellen wher. 
Therfore I stinte, I nam no divinistre; 
Of soules finde I nat in this registre, 
Ne me ne list thilke opiniouns to telle 
Of hem though that they wryten wher they dwelle. 
Arcite is cold, ther Mars his soule gye; -^ 
Now wol I speken forth of Emelye. 

Shrighte Emelye and howleth Palamon, 
And Theseus his suster took anon 

A. 2781-2818 



330 CHAUCER 1631-1668 

Swowning, and bar hir fro the corps away. 
What helpeth it to tarien forth the day 
To tellen how she weep bothe eve and morwe? 
For in swich cas wommen have swich sorwe, 
Whan that hir housbonds been from hem ago, 
That for the more part they sorwen so, 
Or elles fallen in swich malady e, 
That at the laste certeinly they dye. 

Infinite been the sorwes and the teres 
Of olde folk, and folk of tendre yeres, 
In al the toun for deeth of this Theban. 
For him ther wepeth bothe child and man; 
So greet a weping was ther noon, certayn, 
Whan Ector was y-broght al freshe y-slayn 
To Troye; alias! the pi tee that was ther, 
Cracching of chekes, rending eek of heer. 
"Why woldestow be deed," thise wommen crye, 
''And haddest gold y-nough, and Emelye?" 
No man mighte gladen Theseus, 
Saving his olde fader Egeus, 
That knew this worldes transmutacioun, 
As he had seyn it chaungen up and doun, 
loye after wo, and wo after gladnesse. 
And shewed hem ensamples and lyknesse. 

"Right as ther deyed nevere man," quod he, 
"That he ne livede in erthe in some degree. 
Right so ther livede nevere man," he seyde, 
"In al this world that som tyme he ne deyde. 
This world nis but a thurghfare ful of wo. 
And we ben pilgrimes passing to and fro; 
Deeth is an ende of every worldly sore." 
And over al this yet seyde he muchel more 
To this effect, ful wysly to erihorte 
The peple that they sholde hem reconforte. 

Duk Theseus with al his bisy cure 
Caste now wher that the sepulture 
Of good Arcite may best y-maked be. 
And eek most honurable in his degree. 

Sk., A, 2819-2856 



1669-1706 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 331 

And at the laste he took conclusioun 
That ther as first Arcite and Palamoun 
Hadden for love the bataille hem bitwene, 
That in that selve grove swete and grene, 
Ther as he had his amorous desires, 
His compleynte, and for love his hote fires, 
He wolde make a fyr in which thoflSce 
Funeral he mighte al accomplice; 
And leet comaunde anon to hakke and hewe 
The okes olde, and leye hem on a rewe 
In colpons wel arrayed for to brenne; 
His officers with swifte feet they renne 
And ryde anon at his comaundement. 
And after this, Theseus hath y-sent 
After a here, and it al over-spradde 
With cloth of gold, the richest that he hadde. 
And of the same suyte he cladde Arcite; 
Upon his hondes had he gloves whyte; 
Eek on his heed a croune of laurer grene 
And in his hond a swerd ful bright and kene. 
He leyde him bare the visage on the bere, 
Therwith he weep that pitee was to here. 
And for the peple sholde seen him alle, 
Whan it was day he broghte him to the halle. 

Heigh labour and ful greet apparaillinge 
Was at the service and the fyr-makinge, 
That with his grene top the hevene raughte, 
And twenty fadme of brede the armes straughte; 
This is to seyn, the bowes were so brode. 
Of stree first ther was leyd ful many a lode. 
But how the fyr was maked up-on highte. 
And eek the names how the trees highte, 
As ook, firr, birch, asp, alder, holm, popler, 
Wilow, elm, plane, ashe, box, chasteyn, lind, laurer, 
Mapul, thorn, beech, hasel, ew, whippeltree. 
How they weren feld, shal nat be told for me; 
Ne how the goddes ronnen up and doun, 
Disherited of hir habitacioun, 

Sk., A, 2857-2880; 2913-2926 



332 CHAUCER 1707-1744 

In which they woneden in reste and pees, 
Nymphes, faunes, and amadrides; 
Ne how the bestes and the briddes alle 
Fledden for fere whan the wode was falle; 
Ne how the ground agast was of the Hght, 
That was nat wont to seen the sonne bright; 
Ne how the fyr was couched first with stree, 
And than with drye stokkes cloven a three, 
And than with grene wode and spycerye, 
And than with cloth of gold and with perrye,' 
And gerlandes hanging with ful many a flour. 
The mirre, thencens, with al so greet odour; 
Ne how Arcite lay among al this, 
Ne what richesse aboute his body is; 
Ne how that Emelye, as was the gyse, 
Putte in the fyr of funeral servyse; 
Ne how she swowned whan men made the fyr, 
Ne what she spak, ne what was hir desyr; 
Ne what leweles men in the fyr tho caste. 
Whan that the fyr was greet and brente faste; 
Ne how som caste hir sheeld, and som hir spere. 
And of hir vestiments, which that they were. 
And cuppes ful of wyn, and milk, and blood. 
Into the fyr, that brente as it were wood; 
Ne how the Grekes with an huge route ^ 
Thryes riden al the fyr aboute 
Up-on the left hand with a loud shoutinge, 
And thryes with hir speres clateringe; 
And thryes hpw the ladies gonne crye; 
Ne how that lad was hom-ward Emelye; 
Ne how Arcite is brent to asshen colde; 
Ne how that liche-wake was y-holde 
Al thilke night, ne how the Grekes pleye 
The wake-pleyes, ne kepe I nat to seye; 
Who wrastleth best naked with oille enoynt, 
Ne who that bar him best, in no disioynt. • 
I wol nat tellen eek how that they goon 
Hoom til Athenes, whan the pley is doon; 

Sk., A, 2927-2964 



1745-1782 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 333 

But shortly to the poynt than wol I wende, 
And maken of my longe tale an ende. 

By processe and by lengthe of certeyn yeres 
Al stinted is the moorning and the teres 
Of Grekes, by oon general assent. 
Than semed me ther was a parlement 
At Athenes, up-on certeyn poynts and cas; 
Among the whiche poynts y-spoken was 
To have with certeyn contrees alliaunce, 
And have fully of Thebans obeisaunce. 
For which this noble Theseus anon 
Leet senden after gentil Palamon, 
Unwist of him what was the cause and why; 
But in his blake clothes sorwefully 
He cam at his comaundement in hye. 
Tho sente Theseus for Emelye. 
Whan they were set, and hust was al the place, 
And Theseus abiden had a space 
Er any word cam fro his wyse brest, 
His eyen sette he ther as was his lest, 
And with a sad visage he syked stille, 
And after that right thus he seyde his wille. 

"The firste moever of the cause above, 
Whan he first made the faire cheyne of love, 
Greet was theffect, and heigh was his entente. 
Wei wiste he why, and what ther-of he mente; 
For with that faire cheyne of love he bond 
The fyr, the eyr, the water, and the lond, 
In certeyn boundes that they may nat flee. 
That same prince and that moever," quod he, 
"Hath stablissed in this wrecched world adoun 
Certeyn dayes and duracioun 
To al that is engendred in this place. 
Over the whiche day they may nat pace, 
Al mowe they yet tho dayes wel abregge. i- 
Ther needeth non auctoritee allegge, 
For it is preved by experience. 
But that me list declaren my sentence. 

Sk., A, 2965-3002 



334 CHAUCER i783-i82o 

Than may men by this ordre wel discerne 
That thilke moever stable is and eterne. 
Wel may men knowe, but it be a fool, 
That every part deryveth from his K^y^^-*— 
For nature hath nat .take his beginning 
Of no partye ne cantel of a thing, 
But of a thing that parfit is and stable. 
Descending so til it be corrumpable. 
And therfore of his wyse purveyaunce, 
He hath so wel biset his ordinaunce 
That speces of thinges and progressiouns 
Shullen enduren by successiouns. 
And nat eterne be, with-oute lye: 
This maistow understonde and seen at ye. 
Ther helpeth noght, al goth that ilke weye. 
Than may I seyn that al this thing moot deye. 
What maketh this but lupiter the king? 
The which is prince and cause of alle thing, 
Converting al un-to his propre welle, 
From which it is deryved, sooth to telle. 
And heer-agayns no creature on lyve 
Of no degree availleth for to stryve. 

''Than is it wisdom, as it thinketh me, 
To maken vertu of necessitee. 
And take it wel that we may nat eschue, 
And namely that to us alle is due. 
And who-so gruccheth ought, he dooth folye, 
And rebel is to him that al may gye. 
And certeynly a man hath most honour 
To dyen in his excellence and flour. 
Whan he is siker of his gode name; 
Than hath he doon his freend, ne him, no shame. 
And gladder oghte his freend ben of his deeth, 
Whan with honour up-yolden is his breeth. 
Than whan his name apalled is for age; 
Jor al forgeten is his vasselage. 
The contrarie of al this is wilfulnesse. 
Why grucchen we? why have we hevinesse 

Sk., A, 3003-3016: 3033-3054; 3057-3058 



1821-1858 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 335 

That good Arcite, of chivalrye flour, 

Departed is with duetee and honour 

Out of this foule prison of this lyf ? 

Why grucchen heer his cosin and his wyf 

Of his wel-fare that loved hem so weel? 

Can he hem thank? Nay, God wot, nevere a deal, 

That bothe his soule and eek hem-self offende, 

And yet they mowe hir lustes nat amende. 

"Suster," quod he, ''this is my fuUe assent, 
With al thavys heer of my parlement, 
That gentil Palamon, your owne knight. 
That serveth yow with wille, herte, and might, 
And evere hath doon, sin that ye first him knewe, 
That ye shul, of your grace, up-on him rewe "^^ 
And taken him for housbonde and for lord: 
Leen my your hond, for this is our acord. 
Lat see now of your wommanly pitee. 
He is a kinges brother sone, pardee; 
And though he were a povre bacheler. 
Sin he hath served yow so many a yeer. 
And had for yow so greet adversitee. 
It moste been considered, leveth me; 
For gentil mercy oghte to passen right." 

Than seyde he thus to Palamon ful right: 
"I trowe ther nedeth litel sermoning 
To make yow assente to this thing. 
Com neer, and tak your lady by the hond." 
Bitwixen hem was maad anon the bond 
That highte matrimoine or mariage, 
By al the counseil and the baronage. 
And thus with alle blisse and melodye 
Hath Palamon y- wedded Emelye. 
And God, that al this wyde world hath wroght, 
Sende him his love, that hath it dere a-boght. 
For now is Palamon in alle wele, ~ "t 
Living in blisse, in richesse, and in Hele; ^ 
And Emelye him loveth so tendrely, 
And he hir serveth al-so gentilly, 

Sk., A, 3059-3066; 3075-3104 



336 CHAUCER 1859-1862. 1-26 

That nevere was ther no jword hem bitwene 

Of lelousye or any other tene. 

Thus endeth Palamon and Emelye; 

And God save al this faire companye! — Amen. 

Here is ended the Knightes Tale. 

Bihoold the murie wordes of the Hoost to the lady Prioresse. 

Whan that the Knight had thus his tale y-told, 
In al the route nas ther yong ne old 
That he ne seyde it was a noble storie, 
And worthy for to drawen to memorie; 
And namely for gentils everichoon. 
Our Hoste lough and swoor, ''So moot I goon, 
This goth aright; unbokeled is the male; 
Lat see now who shal telle another tale: 

My lady Prioresse, by your leve. 

So that I wiste I sholde yow nat greve, 

I wolde demen that ye tellen sholde 

A tale next, if so were that ye wolde. 

Now wol ye vouche-sauf, my lady dere?" 

"Gladly," quod she, and seyde as ye shal here. 

The Prologe of the Prioresses Tale 

O Lord, our Lord, thy name how merveillous 
Is in this large world y-sprad! — quod she: — 
For noght only thy laude precious 
Parfourned is by men of dignitee, 
But by the mouth of children thy bountee 
Parfourned is, for on the brest soukinge 
Som tyme shewen they thyn heryinge. 

Wherfore in laude, as I best can or may. 
Of thee, and of the whyte lilie flour 
Which that thee bar and is a mayde alway, 
To telle a storie I wol do my labour; 
Not that I may encresen hir honour, 

Sk., A, 3105-3116; B, 1637-1654 



27-49. Pr.T., 1-7 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 337 

For she hir-self is honour, and the rote , 

Of bountee, next hir sone, and soules bote. — ^ 

O moder mayde! O mayde moder free! 

O bush unbrent, brenning in Moyses sighte, 

That ravisedest doun fro the deitee 

Thurgh thyn humblesse the goost that in thalighte, 

Of whos vertu, whan he thyn herte lighte, "^^ '^^J^C5-tt_ 

Conceived was the fadres sapience, 

Help me to telle it in thy reverence! 

Lady! thy bountee, thy magnificence, 
Thy vertu, and thy grete humilitee, 
Ther may no tonge expresse in no science; 
For som-tyme, lady, er mefi praye to thee, 
Thou goost biforn of thy benignitee, 
And getest us the light thurgh thy preyere 
To gyden us un-to thy son^ so dere. 

My conning is so wayk, O blisful queue, 
For to declare thy grete worthinesse. 
That I ne may the weighte nat sustene; 
But as a child of twelf month old, or lesse. 
That can unnethes any word expresse. 
Right so fare I, and therfore I yow preye, 
Gydeth my song that I shal of yow seye. 

THE PRIORESSES TALE 

Here biginneth the Prioresses Tale 

Ther was in Asie in a greet citee, 

Amonges Cristen-folk a lewerye, 

Sustened by a lord of that contree 

For foul usure and lucre of vilanye. 

Hateful to Crist and to his companye; 

And thurgh the strete men mighte ryde or wende. 

For it was free, and open at either ende. 

Sk., B, 1655-1684 



338 CHAUCER 8-42 

A litel scole of Cristen folk ther stood 
Doun at the farther ende, in which ther were 
Children an heep, y-comen of Cristen blood, 
That lerned in that scole yeer by yere 
Swich maner doctrine as men used there, 
This is to seyn, to singen and to rede, 
As smale children doon in hir childhede. 

Among thise children was a widwes sone, 
A litel clergeon, sevens yeer of age, 
That day by day to scole was his wone. 
And eek also, wher-as he saugh thimage 
Of Cristes moder, had he in usage, 
As him was taught, to knele adoun and seye 
His Ave Marie as he goth by the weye. 

Thus hath this widwe hir litel sone y-taught 

Our bHsful lady, Cristes moder dere, 

To worshipe ay, and he forgat it naught, 

For sely child wol alday sone lere. 

But ay whan I remembre on this matere, 

Seint Nicholas stant evere in my presence, 

For he so yong to Crist did reverence. 

This litel child, his litel book lerninge 

As he sat in the scole at his prymer. 

He Alma redemptoris herde singe. 

As children lerned hir antiphoner; 

And, as he dorste, he drough him ner and ner. 

And herkned ay the wordes and the note, 

Til he the firste vers coude al by rote. 

Noght wiste he what this Latin was to seye. 
For he so yong and tendre was of age; 
But on a day his felawe gan he preye 
Texpounden him this song in his langage, 
Or telle him why this song was in usage. 
This preyde he him to construe and declare 
Ful ofte tyme upon his knowes bare. 

Sk.. B. 1685-1719 



43-77 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 339 

His felawe, which that elder was than he, 

Answerde him thus: "This song I have herd seye 

Was maked of our blisful lady free, 

Hir to salue, and eek hir for to preye 

To been our help and socour whan we deye. 

I can no more expounde in this matere; 

I lerne song, I can but smal grammere." 

"And is this song maked in reverence 

Of Cristes moder?" seyde this innocent; 

"Now certes, I wol do my diligence 

To conne it al er Cristemasse is went, ij^^, 

Though that I for my prymer shal be shentj V ; 

And shal be beten thryes in an houre, 

I wol it conne, our lady for to honoure." 

His felaw? taughte him homward prively, 
Fro day to day til he coude it by rote, 
And than he song it wel and boldely 
Fro word to word, acording with the note; 
Twyes a day it passed thurgh his throte, 
To scoleward and homward whan he wente: 
On Cristes moder set was his entente. 

As I have seyd, thurgh- out the lewerye 
This litel child, as he cam to and fro, 
Ful merily than wolde he singe and crye 
O Alma redemptoris evere-mo. 
The swetnesse hath his herte perced so 
Of Cristes moder that to hir to preye 
He can nat stinte of singing by the weye. 

Our firste fo, the serpent Sathanas, 
That hath in lewes herte his waspes nest, 
Up swal, and seide, "0 Hebraik peple, alias! 
Is this to yow a thing that is honest, ' 
That swich a boy shal walken as him lest _^ 
In your despyt, and singe of swich sentence, 
Which is agayn your lawes reverence? " 

Sk., B, 1720-1754 



340 CHAUCER 78-112 

Fro thennes forth the lewes han conspyred 

This innocent out of this world to chace. 

An homicyde ther-to han they hyred 

That in an aley had a privee place; 

And as the child gan for-by for to pace, 

This cursed lew him hente and heeld him faste, 

And kitte his throte, and in a pit him caste. 

O martir, souded to virginitee, , r 1 

Now maystou singen, folwing evere in oon 

The whyte lamb celestial — quod she: — 

Of which the grete evangeUst, Seint lohn, 

In Pathmos wroot, which seith that they that goon 

Biforn this lamb, and singe a song al newe. 

That nevere, fleshly, wommen they ne knewe. 

This povre widwe awaiteth al that night 
After hir litel child, but he cam noght; 
For which as sone as it was dayes light. 
With face pale of drede and bisy thoght. 
She hath at scole and elles-wher him soght, 
Til finally she gan so fer espye 
That he last seyn was in the lewerye. 

With modres pitee in hir brest enclosed. 
She goth as she were half out of hir minde 
To every place wher she hath supposed 
By lyklihede hir litel child to finde; 
And evere on Cristes moder meke and kinde 
She cryde, and atte laste thus she wroghte, 
Among the cursed lewes she him soghte. 

She frayneth and she preyeth pitously 
To every lew that dwelte in thilke place 
To telle hir if hir child wente oght for-by. 
They seyde, "Nay;" but lesu of his grace 
Yaf in hir thought, inwith a litel space, 
That in that place after hir son? she cryde 
Wher he was casten in a pit bisyde. 

Sk., B, 1755-1761; 1769-1796 



113-147 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 341 

O grete God, that parf our nest thy laude 
By mouth of innocents, lo heer thy might! 
This gemme of chastitee, this emeraude, 
And eek of martirdom the ruby bright, 
Ther he with throte y-corven lay upright 
He Alma redemptoris gan to singe 
So loude that al the place gan to ringe. 

The Cristen folk that thurgh the strete wente, 

In coomen for to wondre up-on this thing; 

And hastily they for the provost sente. 

He cam anon with-outen tarying, 

And herieth Crist, that is of hevene king, 

And eek his moder, honour of mankinde, 

And after that, the lewes leet he binde. 

This child with pitous lamentacioun 
Up- taken was, singing his song alway; 
And with honour of greet procession 
They carien him un-to the nexte abbay. 
His moder swowning by the bere lay; 
Unnethe might the peple that was there 
This newe Rachel bringe fro his bere. jxh- 

With torment and with shamful deth echon'' '^-^^ 
This provost dooth thise lewes for to sterve 
That of this mordre wiste, and that anon; 
He nolde no swich cursednesse observe. 
Yvel shal havQ that yvel wol deserve. 
Therfore with wilde hors he did hem drawe. 
And after that he heng hem by the lawe. 

Up-on his bere ay lyth this innocent 

Biforn the chief auter whyl the masse laste, 

And after that, the abbot with his covent ^'*'^'*-^ 

Han sped hem for to burien him ful faste; 

And whan they holy water on him caste, 

Yet spak this child, whan spreynd was holy water, 

And song, "O Alma redemptoris mater!'' 

Sk., B, 1797-1831 



342 CHAUCER i48-i82 

This abbot, which that was an holy man 

As monkes been, or elles oghten be. 

This yonge child to coniure he bigan, 

And seyde, "O dere child, I halse thee, 

In vertu of the holy Trinitee, 

Telle me what is thy cause for to singe, 

Sith that thy throte is cut, to my seminge? " 

"My throte is cut un-to my nekke-boon," 
Seyde this child, "and as by wey of kinde, 
I sholde have deyed, ye, longe tyme agoon, 
But lesu Crist, as ye in bokes finde, 
Wil that his glorie laste and be in minde, 
And for the worship of his moder dere 
Yet may I singe '0 Alma' loude and clere. 

"This welle of mercy, Cristes moder swete, 

I lovede alwey as after my conninge; 

And whan that I my lyf sholde forlete. 

To me she cam, and bad me for to singe 

This antem verraily in my deyinge. 

As ye han herd, and whan that I had songe, 

Me thoughte she leyde a greyn up-on my tonge. 

"Wherfore I singe, and singe I moot certeyn 
In honour of that blisful mayden free, 
Til fro my tonge of-taken is the greyn. 
And afterward thus seyde she to me: 
' My litel child, now wol I fecche thee 
Whan that the greyn is fro thy tonge y-take; 
Be nat agast, I wol thee nat forsake. ' " 

This holy monk, this abbot, him mene I, 

His tonge oute-caughte, and took a-wey the greyn, 

And he yaf up the goost ful softely. 

And whan this abbot had this wonder seyn. 

His salte teres trikled doun as reyn, 

And gruf he fil al plat up-on the grounde. 

And stille he lay as he had been y-bounde. 

Sk., B, 1832-1866 



i 



183-196. 1-17 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 343 

The covent eek lay on the pavement 
Weping, and herien Cristes moder dere, 
And after that they ryse, and forth ben went, 
And toke awey this martir fro his here, 
And in a tombe of marbul-stones clere 
Enclosen they his litel body swete; 
Ther he is now, God leve us for to mete. 

O yonge Hugh of Lincoln, slayn also 

With cursed lewes, as it is notable, 

For it nis but a litel whyle ago; 

Preye eek for us, we sinful folk unstable, 

That of his mercy God so merciable 

On us his grete mercy multiplye. 

For reverence of his moder Marye. Amen. 

Here is ended the Prioresses Tale. 



Bihoold the murye wordes of the Hoost to Chaucer 

Whan seyd was al this miracle, every man 

As sobre was that wonder was to se, 

Til that our hoste lapen tho bigan. 

And than at erst he loked up-on me, 

And seyde thus, "What man artow?" quod he; 

"Thou lokest as thou woldest finde an hare, 

For evere up-on the ground I see thee stare. 

''Approche neer, and loke up merily. 

Now war yow, sirs, and lat this man have place. 

He in the waast is shape as wel as I; 

This were a popet in an arm tenbrace 

For any womman, smal and fair of face! 

He semeth elvish by his contenaunce, -^^Ma^ 

For un-to no wight dooth he daliaunce. ^ / ^-^-^?V 

" Sey now somwhat, sin other folk han sayd. 

Telle us a tale of mirthe, and that anoon!" 

"Hoste," quod I, "ne beth nat yvel apayd, y 

Sk., B. 1867-1897 



344 CHAUCER 18-21. 1-13. N.Pr.T. 1-8 

For other tales certes can I noon, 

But of a rym I lerned longe agoon." 

"Ye, that is good," quod he; "now shul we here 

Som deyntee thing, me thinketh by his chere." 

{Here follows the Tale of Sir Thopas.) 



The Prologe of the Nonne Preestes Tale. 

Than spak our host with rude speche and bold. 

And seyde un-to the Nonnes Freest anon, 

"Com neer, thou preest, com hider, thou Sir lohn, 

Telle us swich thing as may our hertes glade, 

Be blythe, though thou ryde up-on a lade. 

What though thyn hors be bothe foul and lene. 

If he wol serve thee, rekke nat a bene; 

Loke that thyn herte be merye everemo." 

" Yis, sir," quod he, "yis, host, so mote I go, 

But I be merye, y-wis, I wol be blamed!" — 

And right anon his tale he hath attamed, 

And thus he seyde un-to us everichon, 

This swete preest, this goodly man, Sir lohn. 



THE NONNE PREESTES TALE 

Here biginneth the Nonne Preestes Tale of the Cok and Hen, 
Chauntecleer and Pertelote 

A povre widwe, somdel stape in age, 
Was whylom dwelling in a narwe cotage 
Bisyde a grove stonding in a dale. 
This widwe of which I telle yow my tale, 
Sin thilke day that she was last a wyf 
In pacience ladde a ful simple \yi, 
For Htel was hir catel and hir rente. 
By housbondrye of such as God hir sente 

Sk., B, 1898-1901; 3998-4018 



9^6 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 345 

She fond hir-self and eek hir doghtren two. 
Three large sowes had she and namo, 
Three kyn, and eek a sheep that highte Malle. 
Ful sooty was hir bour and eek hir halle, 
In which she eet ful many a sclendre meel. 
Of poynaunt sauce hir neded nevere a deel. 
No deyntee morsel passed thurgh hir throte; 
Hir dyete was accordant to hir cote. 
Repleccioun ne made hir nevere syk; 
Attempree dyete was al hir phisyk, 
And exercyse and hertes sufhsaunce. 
The goute lette hir no-thing for to daunce, 
Napoplexye shente nat hir heed. 
No wyn ne drank she, neither whyt ne reed; 
Hir bord was served most with whyt and blak, 
Milk and broun breed, in which she fond no lak, 
Seynd bacoun, and somtyme an ey or tweye, 
For she was as it were a maner deye. 
A yerd she had, enclosed al aboute 
With stikkes and a drye dich with-oute, 
In which she had a cok heet Chauntecleer. 
In al the land of crowing nas his peer. 
His vois was merier than the mery orgon 
On messe-dayes that in the chirche gon; 
Wei sikerer was his crowing in his logge 
Than is a clokke, or an abbey orlogge. 
By nature knew he ech ascencioun 
Of equinoxial in thilke toun; 
For whan degrees fiftene were ascended, 
Than crew he that it mighte nat ben amended. 
His comb was redder than the fyn coral, 
And batailed as it were a castel-wal. 
His bile was blak, and as the leet it shoon; 
Lyk asur were his legges and his toon; 
His nayles whytter than the lilie flour. 
And lyk the burned gold was his colour. 
This gentil cok had in his governaunce 
Sevene hennes for to doon al his plesaunce, 

Sk., B, 4019-4DS6 



346 CHAUCER 47-84 

Which were his sustres and his paramours, 
And wonder lyk to him as of colours. 
Of which the faireste hewed on hir throte 
Was cleped faire damoysele Pertelote. 
Curteys she was, discreet, and debonaire. 
And compaignable, and bar hir-self so faire 
Sin thilke day that she was sevene night old 
That trewely she hath the herte in hold 
Of Chauntecleer loken in every lith; 
He loved hir so that wel was him therwith. 
But such a loye was it to here hem singe. 
Whan that the brighte sonne gan to springe, 
In swete accord, "My Hef is faren in londe." 
For thilke tyme, as I have understonde, 
Bestes and briddes coude speke and singe. 

And so bifel that in a daweninge. 
As Chauntecleer among his wyves alle 
Sat on his perche, that was in the halle, 
And next him sat this faire Pertelote, 
This Chauntecleer gan gronen in his throte. 
As man that in his dreem is drecched sore. 
And whan that Pertelote thus herde him rore, 
She was agast, and seyde, "O herte dere, 
What eyleth yow to grone in this manere? 
Ye ben a verray sleper, fy for shame!" 
And he answerde and seyde thus: "Madame, 
I pray yow that ye take it nat a-grief : 
By God, me mette I was in swich meschief 
Right now that yet myn herte is sore afright. 
Now God," quod he, " my sweven^ recche aright, 
And keep my body out of foul prisoun! 
Me mette how that I romed up and doun 
With-in our yerd, wher-as I saugh a beest, 
Was lyk an hound, and wolde han maad arest 
Upon my body, and wolde han had me deed. 
His colour was bitwixe yelwe and reed; 
And tipped was his tail and bothe his eres 
With blak, unlyk the remenant of his heres; 

Sk., B, 4057^094 



85-122 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 347 

His snowte smal, with glowing eyen tweye. ^^ 

Yet of his look for fere almost I deye: %7^^- 

This caused me my groning doutelees." ^/ , 

"Avoy!" quod she, "fy on yow, hertelees! 
Alias!" quod she, ''for by that God above, 
Now han ye lost myn herte and al my love. 
I can nat love a coward, by my feith. "W ^' 

For certes, what so any womman seith, \ 

We all^ desyren, if it mighte be. 
To han housbondes hardy, wyse, and free, 
And secree, and no nigard, ne no fool, 
Ne him that is agast of every tool, 
Ne noon avauntour, by that God above! 
How dorste ye seyn for shame unto your love 
That any thing mighty make yow aferd? 
Have ye no mannes herte, and han a berd? 
Alias! and conne ye been agast of swevenis? 
No-thing, God wot, but vanitee in swevene is. 
Swevenes engendren of replecciouns, 
And of te of fume and of complecciouns. 
Whan humours been to habundant in a wight. 
Certes this dreem, which ye han met to-night, 
Cometh of the grete superfluitee 
Of your rede colera, pardee, 
Which causeth folk to dreden in here dremes 
Of arwes, and of fyr with rede lemes. 
Of grete bestes, that they wol hem byte, 
Of contek, and of whelpes grete and lyte; 
Right as the humour of malencolye 
Causeth ful many a man in sleep to crye 
For fere of blake beres or boles blake. 
Or elles blake develes wole hem take. 
Of othere humours coude I telle also 
That werken many a man in sleep ful wo; 
But I wol passe as lightly as I can. 

"Lo, Catoun, which that was so wys a man, 
Seyde he nat thus, ne do no fors of dremes? 
Now sir," quod she, " whan we flee fro the hemes, 

Sk., B, 4095-4132 



348 CHAUCER 123-160 

For Goddes love, as tak som laxatyf. 

Up peril of my soule, and of my lyf, 

I counseille yow the beste, I wol nat lye, 

That bothe of colere and of malencolye 

Ye purge yow; and for ye shul nat tarie, 

Though in this toun is noon apotecarie, 

I shal my-self to herbes techen yow 

That shul ben for your hele and for your prow. 

Ye been ful colerik of compleccioun. 

Ware the sonne in his ascencioun 

Ne fynde yow nat repleet of humours hote; 

And if it do, I dar wel leye a grote ''^'''*-^^c,^^^ 

That ye shul have a fevere terciane Jl^K.^^*^ 

Or an agu that may be your bane. ^ ^^^^^ ^ 

A day or two ye shul have digestyves ' \ 

Of wormes, er ye take your laxatyves. 

Of lauriol, centaure, and fumetere. 

Or elles of ellebor, that groweth there. 

Of catapuce, or of gaytres beryis, 

Of erbe yve, growing in our yerd, that merye is: 

Pekke hem up right as they growe and ete hem in. 

Be merye, housbond?, for your fader kin! 

Dredeth no dreem; I can say yow na-more." 

"Madame," quod he, "graunt mercy of your lore. 
But nathelees, as touching Daun Catoun, 
That hath of wisdom such a greet renoun, 
Though that he bad no dremes for to drede, 
By God, men may in olde bokes rede 
Of many a man, more of auctoritee 
Than evere Catoun was, so mote I thee, 
That al the revers seyn of his sentence. 
And han wel founden by experience 
That dremes ben significaciouns 
As wel of loye as tribulaciouns 
That folk enduren in this lyf present. 
Ther nedeth make of this noon argument; 
The verray preve sheweth it in dede. 

"Oon of the gretteste auctours that men rede 

Sk., B, 4133-4140; 4145-4174 



161-198 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 349 

Seith thus, that whylom two felawes wente 
On pilgrimage in a ful good entente; 
And happed so they come into a toun 
Wher-as ther was swich congregacioun 
Of peple, and eek s6 streit of herbergage, 
That they ne founde as muche as o cotage 
In which they bothe mighte y-logged be. 
Wherfore they mosten, of necessitee, 
As for that night departen companye; 
And ech of hem goth to his hostelrye, 
And took his logging as it wolde falle. 
That oon of hem was logged in a stalle 
Fer in a yerd with oxen of the plough; 
That other man was logged wel y-nough, 
As was his aventure or his fortune, 
That us governeth alle as in commune. 

"And so bifel that longe er it were day 
This man mette in his bed, ther-as he lay, 
How that his felawe gan up-on him calle. 
And seyde, 'Alias, for in an oxes stalle 
This night I shal be mordred ther I lye. 
Now help me, dere brother, er I dye; 
In alle haste com to me,' he sayde. 
This man out of his sleep for fere abrayde; 
But whan that he was wakned of his sleep, 
He turned him and took of this no keep; 
Him thoughte his dreem nas but a vanitee. 
Thus twyes in his sleping dremed he. 
And atte thridde tyme yet his felawe 
Cam, as him thoughte, and seide, 'I am now slawe; 
Bihold my blody woundes depe and wyde! 
Arys up erly in the morwe-tyde, , 

And at the west gate of the toun,' quod he, 
' A carte ful of donge ther shaltow see 
In which my body is hid ful prively; 
Do thilke carte aresten boldely. 
My gold caused my mordre, sooth to sajai;' 
And tolde him every poynt how he was slayn, 

Sk., B, 4175-4212 



350 CHAUCER 



199-236 



With a ful pitous face, pale of hewe. 

And truste wel his dreem he fond ful trewe; 

For on the morwe, as sone as it was day, 

To his felawes in he took the way. 

And whan that he cam to this oxes stalle, 

After his felawe he bigan to calle. 

''The hostiler answerde him anon, 
And seyde, 'Sir, your felawe is agon; 
As sone as day he wente out of the toun.' 
This man gan fallen in suspecioun, 
Remembring on his dremes that he mette, 
And forth he goth, no lenger wolde he lette, 
Unto the west gate of the toun and fond 
A dong-carte, as it were to donge lond. 
That was arrayed in the same wyse 
As ye han herd the dede man devyse; 
And with an hardy herte he gan to crye 
Vengeaunce and Justice of this felonye: 
' My felawe mordred is this same night. 
And in this carte he lyth gaping upright. 
I crye oute on the ministres,' quod he, 
'That sholden kepe and reulen this citee. 
Harrow! alias! her lyth my felawe slayn!' 
What sholde I more un-to this tale sayn? 
The peple out-sterte, and caste the carte to grounde, 
And in the middel of the dong they founde 
The dede man, that mordred was al newe. 

"O blisful God, that art so lust and trewe! 
Lo, how that thou biwreyest mordre alway! 
Mordre wol oute, that see we day by day. 
Mordre is so wlatsom and abhominable 
To God, that is so lust and resonable. 
That he ne wol nat suffre it heled be; 
Though it abyde a yeer or two or three, 
Mordre wol oute, this my conclusioun. 
And right anoon, ministres of that toi^n 
Han hent the carter and so sore him pyned, 
And eek the hostiler so sore engyned, 

Sk., B, 4213^250 



237-274 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 351 

That they biknewe hir wikkednesse anoon, 
And were an-hanged by the nekke-boon. 

"Heer may men seen that dremes been to drede. 
And certes, in the same book I rede 
Right in the nexte chapitre after this 
(I gabbe nat, so have I loye or bHs) 
Two men that wolde han passed over see 
For certeyn cause in-to a fer contree, 
If that the wind ne hadde been contrarie, 
That made hem in a citee for to tarie, 
That stood ful merye upon an haven-syde. 
But on a day, agayn the even-tyde, 
The wind gan chaunge, and blew right as hem leste. ^^^^ 
loHf and glad they wente un-to hir reste, 
And casten hem ful erly for to saille; 
But to that 00 man fil a greet mervaille. 
That oon of hem in sleping as he lay 
Him mette a wonder dreem agayn the day. 
Him thoughte a man stood by his beddes syde, 
And him comaunded that he sholde abyde, 
And seyde him thus: Tf thou to-morwe wende, 
Thou shalt be dreynt; my tale is at an ende.' 
He wook, and tolde his felawe what he mette, 
And preyde him his viage for to lette; 
As for that day he preyde him to abyde. 
His felawe, that lay by his beddes syde, 
Gan for to laughe, and scorned him ful faste. ^ 
'No dreem,' quod he, 'may so myn herte agaste ' 
That I wol lette for to do my thinges, 
I sette not a straw by thy dreminges;f 
For swevenes been but vanitees and lapes/ 
Men dreme al-day of owles or of apes, 
And eek of many a mase therwithal; 
Men dreme of thing that nevere was ne shal. 
But sith I see that thou wolt heer abyde, 
And thus for-sleuthen wilfully thy tyde, 
God wot itl-eweth me; and have good day.' 
And thus he took his leve, and wente his way. 

Sk., B, 4251-4288 



352 CHAUCER 275-312 

But er that he had half his cours y-seyled, 

Noot I nat why, ne what mischaunce it eyled, 

But casuelly the shippes botme rente, 

And ship and man under the water wente 

In sighte of othere shippes it byside, 

That with hem seyled at the same tyde. 

And therfore, faire Pertelote so dere,, 

By swiche ensamples olde maistow le're, 

That no man sholde been to recchelees 

Of dremes, for I sey thee, doutelees, 

That many a dreem ful sore is for to drede. 

"Lo, in the lyf of Seint Kenelm, I rede, 
That was Kenulphus sone, the noble king 
Of Mercenrike, how Kenelm mette a thing; 
A lyte er he was mordred on a day, 
His mordre in his avisioun he say. 
His norice him expouned every del 
His sweven, and bad him for to kepe him wel 
For traisoun; but he nas but sevene yeer old, 
And therfore Htel tale hath he told 
Of any dreem, so holy was his herte. 
By God, I hadde lever than my sherte 
That ye had red his legende as have I. 
Dame Pertelote, I sey yow trewely, 
Macrobeus, that writ the avisioun 
In Affrike of the worthy Cipioun, 
Affermeth dremes, and seith that they been 
Warning of thinges that men after seen. 

And forther-more, I pray yow loketh wel 
In the Olde Testament of Daniel 
If he held dremes any vanitee. 
Reed eek of loseph, and ther shul ye see 
Wher dremes ben somtyme (I sey nat alle) 
Warning of thinges that shul after falle. 
Loke of Egipt the king, Daun Pharao, 
His baker and his boteler also, 
Wher they ne felte noon effect in dremes. 
Who-so wol seken actes of sondry remes, 

Sk., B, 4289-4326 



313-350 



THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 353 



May rede of dremes many a wonder thing. 

''Lo Cresus, which that was of Lyde king, 
Mette he nat that he sat upon a tree, 
Which signified he sholde anhanged be? 
Lo heer Andromacha, Ectores wyf, 
That day that Ector sholde lese his lyf, 
She dremed on the same night bifom 
How that the lyf of Ector sholde be lorn 
If thilke day he wente in-to bataille; 
She warned him, but it mighte nat availle; 
He wente for to fighte nathelees. 
But he was slayn anoon of Achilles. 
But thilke tale is al to long to telle; 
And eek it is ny day, I may nat dwelle. 
Shortly I seye, as for conclusioun, 
That I shal han of this avisioun 
Adversitee; and I seye forther-moor 
That I ne telle of laxatyves no stoor, 
For they ben venimous, I woot it wel; 
I hem defye, I love hem nevere a del. 

"Now let us speke of mirthe, and stinte al this. 
Madame Pertelote, so have I blis, 
Of o thing God hath sent me large grace; 
For whan I see the beautee of your face, 
Ye ben so scarlet-reed aboute your yen, 
It maketh al my drede for to dyen. 
For also siker as * In principio,' 
* Mulier est hominis confusio\ ' 
Madame, the sentence of this Latin is 
'Woman is mannes loye and al his blis.* 
For whan I fele a-night your softe syde, 
Al-be-it that I may nat on you ryde. 
For that our perche is maad so narwe, alas! 
I am so ful of loye and of solas 
That I defye bothe sweven and dreem." 
And with that word he fley doun fro the beem. 
For it was day, and eek his hennes alle; 
And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle, 

Sk., B, 4327-4364 



354 CHAUCER 351-388 

For he had founde a corn, lay in the yerd. 
Royal he was, he was namore aferd; 
He loketh as it were a grim leoun, 
And on his toes he rometh up and doun, — 
Him deyned not to sette his foot to grounde. 
He chukketh whan he hath a corn y-founde, 
And to him renneth than his wyves alle. 
Thus royal as a prince is in his halle 
Leve I this Chauntecleer in his pasture; 
And after wol I telle his aventure. 

Whan that the month in which the world bigan, 
That highte March, whan God first maked man, 
Was complet, and y-passed were also. 
Sin March bigan, thritty dayes and two, 
Bifel that Chauntecleer in al his pryde, 
His sevene wyves walking by his syde. 
Caste up his eyen to the brighte sonne. 
That in the signe of Taurus had y-ronne 
Twenty degrees and oon and somwhat more; 
And knew by kinde and by noon other lore 
That it was pryme, and crew with blisful stevene. 
^'The Sonne," he sayde, ''is clomben up on hevene 
Fourty degrees and oon and more, y-wis. 
Madame Pertelote, my worldes blis, 
Herkneth thise bhsful briddes how they singe, 
And see the fresshe floures how they springe. 
Ful is myn.herte of revel and solas!" 
But sodeinly him fil a sorweful cas; 
For evere the latter ende of loye is wo. 
God woot that worldly loye is sone ago; 
And if a rethor coude faire endyte. 
He in a cronique saufly mighte it wryte 
As for a sovereyn notabilitee. 
Now every wys man, lat him herkne me: 
This storie is al-so trewe, I undertake. 
As is the book of Launcelot de Lake, 
That wommen holde in ful gret reverence. 
Now wol I torne agayn to my sentence. 

Sk., B, 4365-4366; 4369-4404 



389-426 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 355 

A col-fox ful of sly iniquitee, 
That in the grove had woned yeres three, 
By heigh imaginacioun forn-cast 
The same night thurgh-oute the hegges brast 
Into the yerd ther Chauntecleer the faire 
Was wont, and eek his wyves, to repaire; 
And in a bed of wortes stille he lay 
Til it was passed undern of the day, 
Wayting his tyme on Chauntecleer to falle, 
As gladly doon thise homicydes alle 
That in awayt liggen to mordre men. 
O false mordrer lurking in thy den! 
O newe Scariot, newe Genilon! 
False dissimilour, O Greek Sinon, 
That broghtest Troye al outrely to sorwe! 

Chauntecleer, acursed be that morwe 

That thou into that yerd flough fro the hemes! 
Thou were ful wel y-warned by thy dremes 
That thilke day was perilous to thee. 
But what that God forwoot mot nedes be, 
After the opinioun of certeyn clerkis. 
Witnesse on him that any perfit clerk is, 
That in scole is gret altercacioun 
In this matere, and greet disputisoun, 
And hath ben of an hundred thousand men. 
But I ne can not bulte it to the bren 
As can the holy doctour Augustyn, 
Or Boece, or the bishop Bradwardyn, 
Whether that Goddes worthy forwiting 
Streyneth me nedely for to doon a thing 
(Nedely clepe I simple necessitee) ; 
Or elles, if that free choys be graunted me 
To do that same thing or do it noght, 
Though God forwoot it er that it was wroght; 
Or if his witing streyneth nevere a del 
But by necessitee condicionel. 

1 wol not han to do of swich matere; 
My tale is of a cok, as ye may here, 

Sk., B, 4405-4442 

1 



356 CHAUCER 427^64 

That took his counseil of his wyf, with sorwe, 
To walken in the yerd upon that morwe 
That he had met the dreem that I yow tolde. 
Wommennes counseils been ful ofte colde; 
Wommannes counseil broghte us first to wo, 
And made Adam fro Paradys to go, 
Ther-as he was ful merye and wel at ese. 
But for I noot to whom it mighte displese 
If I counseil of wommen wolde blame, 
Passe over, for I seyde it in my game. 
Rede auctours, wher they trete of swich matere, 
And what they seyn of wommen ye may here. 
Thise been the cokkes wordes and nat myne; 
I can noon harm of no womman divyne. 

Faire in the sond, to bathe hir merily. 
Lyth Pertelote, and alle hir sustres by, 
Agayn the sonne; and Chauntecleer so free 
Song merier than the mermayde in the see: 
For Phisiologus seith sikerly 
How that they singen wel and merily. 
And so bifel that as he caste his ye 
Among the wortes on a boterflye. 
He was war of this fox that lay ful lowe. 
No-thing ne liste him thanne for to crowe. 
But cryde anon "Cok, cok," and up he sterte 
As man that was affrayed in his herte. 
For naturelly a beest desyreth flee 
Fro his contrarie if he may it see, 
Though he nevere erst had seyn it with his ye. 

This Chauntecleer, whan he gan him espye, 
He wolde han fled, but that the fox anon 
Seyde, ^'Gentil sir, alias! wher wol ye gon? 
Be ye afifrayed of me that am your freend? 
Now certes, I were worse than a feend 
If I to yow wolde harm or vileinye. 
I am not come your counseil for tespye; 
But trewely, the cause of my cominge 
Was only for to herkne how that ye singe. 

Sk., B, 4443-4480 



465-502 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 357 

For trewely ye have as merye a stevene 
As eny aungel hath that is in hevene; 
Therwith ye han in musik more felinge 
Than had Boece or any that can singe. 
My lord your fader (God his soule blesse!) 
And eek your moder, of hir gentilesse, 
Han in myn hous y-been, to my gret ese. 
And certes, sir, ful fayn wolde I yow plese. 
But for men speke of singing, I wol saye, 
So mote I brouke wel myn eyen tweye, 
Save yow I herde nevere man so singe 
As did your fader in the morweninge; 
Certes, it was of herte al that he song. 
And for to make his voys the more strong, 
He wolde so peyne him that with bothe his yen 
He moste winke, so loude he wolde cryen. 
And stonden on his tiptoon ther-with-al. 
And strecche forth his nekke long and smal. 
And eek he was of swich discrecioun 
That ther nas no man in no regioun 
That him in song or wisdom mighte passe. 
I have wel rad in Daun Burnel the Asse, 
Among his vers, how that ther was a cok, 
For that a preestes sone yaf him a knok 
Upon his leg whyl he was yong and nyce, 
He made him for to lese his benefyce. 
But certeyn, ther nis no comparisoun 
Bitwix the wisdom and discrecioun 
Of youre fader, and of his subtiltee. 
Now singeth, sir, for seinte charitee, 
Lat see, conne ye your fader countref ete? " 
This Chauntecleer his winges gan to bete 
As man that coude his tresoun nat espye. 
So was he ravisshed with his flaterye. 
Alias! ye lordes, many a fals flatour 
Is in your courtes, and many a losengour, 
That plesen yow wel more, by my feith, 
Than he that soothfastnesse unto yow seith. 

Sk., B, 4481-4518 



358 CHAUCER 503-s40 

Redeth Ecclesiaste of flaterye; 
Beth war, ye lordes, of hir trecherye. 

This Chauntecleer stood hye up-on his toos, 
Strecching his nekke, and heeld his eyen cloos, 
And gan to crowe loude for the nones; 
And Daun Russel the fox sterte up at ones, 
And by the gargat hente Chauntecleer, 
And on his bak toward the wode him beer, 
For yet ne was ther no man that him sewed. 
O destinee, that mayst nat been eschewed! 
Alias, that Chauntecleer fleigh fro the hemes! 
Alias, his wyf ne roghte nat of dremes! 
And on a Friday fil al this meschaunce. 
O Venus, that art goddesse of plesaunce. 
Sin that thy servant was this Chauntecleer, 
And in thy service did al his poweer. 
More for delyt than world to multiplye, 
Why woldestow suffre him on thy day to dye? 
O Gaufred, dere mayster soverayn. 
That, whan thy worthy King Richard was slayn 
With shot, compleynedest his deth so sore. 
Why ne had I now thy sentence and thy lore 
The Friday for to chide as diden ye? 
(For on a Friday soothly slayn was he.) a^ 
Than wolde I shewe yow how that I coude pleyne 
For Chauntecleres drede and for his peyne. 

Certes, swich cry ne lamentacioun 
Was nevere of ladies maad whan Ilioun 
Was wonne, and Pirrus with his streite swerd. 
Whan he had hent King Priam by the herd 
And slain him — as saith us Eneydos — 
As maden alle the hennes in the clos 
Whan they had seyn of Chauntecleer the sighte. 
But sovereynly Dame Pertelote shrighte 
Ful louder than did Hasdrubales wyf 
Whan that hir housbonde hadde lost his lyf , 
And that the Romayns hadde brend Cartage; 
She was so ful of torment and of rage 

Sk.,"B, 4519^556 



541-578 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 359 

That wilfully into the fyr she sterte 

And brende hir-selven with a stedfast herte. 

O woful hennes, right so cryden ye 

As, whan that Nero brende the citee 

Of Rome, cryden senatoures wyves 

For that hir housbondes losten alle hir lyves: 

With-outen gilt this Nero hath hem slayn. 

Now wol I torne to my tale agayn. 

This sely widwe and eek hir doghtres two 
Herden thise hennes crye and maken wo. 
And oute at dores sterten they anoon. 
And syen the fox toward the grove goon, 
And bar upon his bak the cok away; 
And cryden, "Oute! harrow! and weylaway! 
Ha, ha, the fox!" and after him they ran. 
And eek with staves many another man; 
Ran Colle our dogge, and Talbot, and Gerland, 
And Malkin with a distaf in hir hand; 
Ran cow and calf, and eek the verray hogges 
So were they fered for berking of the dogges 
And shouting of the men and wimmen eke, 
They ronne so, hem thoughte hir herte breke. 
They yelleden as feendes doon in helle; 
The dokes cryden as men wolde hem quelle; 
The gees for fere flowen over the trees; 
Out of the hyve cam the swarm of bees. 
So hidous was the noyse, a! benedicite! 
Certes, he lakke Straw and his meynee 
Ne made nevere shoutes half so shrille 
Whan that they wolden any Fleming kille 
As thilke day was maad upon the fox. 
Of bras they broghten hemes, and of box, ^ i . » 
Of horn, of boon, in which they blewe and pouped. 
And therwithal they shryked and they houped; 
It semed as that hevene sholde falle. 
Now, gode men, I pray yow herkneth alle! 

Lo, how Fortune turneth sodeinly 
The hope and pryde eek of hir enemy! 

Sk., B, 4557-4594 



360 CHAUCER s79-6i6 

This cok, that lay upon the foxes bak 

In al his drede, un-to the fox he spak 

And seyde, ''Sir, if that I were as ye, 

Yet sholde I seyn — as wis God helpe me! — 

' Turneth agayn, ye proude cherles alle! 

A verray pestilence up-on yow falle! 

Now am I come un-to this wodes syde, 

Maugree your heed the cok shal heer abyde; 

I wol him ete in feith and that anon!' " 

The fox answerde, "In feith, it shal be don;" — 

And as he spak that word, al sodeinly 

This cok brak from his mouth deliverly, 

And heighe up-on a tree he fleigh anon. 

And whan the fox saugh that he was y-gon, 

''Alias!" quod he, "O Chauntecleer, alias! 

I have to yow," quod he, "y-doon trespas, 

In-as-muche as I maked yow aferd 

Whan I yow hente and broghte out of the yerd. 

But, sir, I did it in no wikke entente; 

Com doun, and I shal telle yow what I mente. 

I shal seye sooth to yow, God helpe me so!" 

"Nay than," quod he, "I shrewe us bothe two. 

And first I shrewe my-self , bothe blood and bones, 

If thou bigyle me ofter than ones. 

Thou shalt na-more thurgh thy flaterye 

Do me to singe and winke with myn ye. 

For he that winketh whan he sholde see, 

Al wilfully, God lat him nevere thee!" 

"Nay," quod the fox, "but God yeve him meschaunce 

That is so undiscreet of governaunce 

That langleth whan he sholde holde his pees." 

Lo, swich it is for to be recchelees. 
And necligent, and truste on flaterye. 
But ye that holden this tale a folye, 
As of a fox or of a cok and hen, 
Taketh the moralitee, good men. 
For Seint Paul seith that al that writen is. 
To our doctryne it is y-write, y-wis. 

Sk., B, 4595-4632 



617-620. 1-27 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 361 

Taketh the fruyt, and lat the chaf be stille. 

Now, gode God, if that it be thy wille, 
As seith my lord, so make us alle good men; 
And bringe us to his heighe blisse. Amen. 

Here is ended the Nonne Preestes Tale. 

The wordes of the Host to the Pardoner. 

"Thou bel amy, thou Pardoner," he seyde, 
"Telle us som mirthe or lapes right anon." 
"It shal be doon," quod he, "by Seint Ronyon! 
But first," quod he, "heer at this ale-stake 
I wol bothe drinke, and eten of a cake." 

But right anon thise gentils gonne to crye, 
"Nay! lat him telle us of no ribaudye; 
Tel us som moral thing that we may lere 
Som wit, and thanne wol we gladly here." 
"I graunte, y-wis," quod he, "but I mot thinke 
Up-on som honest thing whyl that I drinke." 

Here folweth the Prologe of the Pardoners Tale. 

Lordings, — quod he: — in chirches whan I preche, 

I peyne me to han an hauteyn speche. 

And ringe it oute as rounde as gooth a belle, 

For I can al by rote that I telle. 

My theme is alwey oon, and evere was — 

''Radix malorum est Ciipiditas.''^ 

First I pronounce whennes that I come. 
And than my buUes shewe I, alle and somme. 
Our lige lordes seel on my patente. 
That shewe I first, my body to warente. 
That no man be so bold, ne preest, ne clerk, 
Me to destourbe of Cristes holy werk; 
And after that than telle I forth my tales, — 
Bulles of popes and of cardinales, 
Of patriarkes and bishoppes I shewe; 
And in Latyn I speke a wordes fewe 

Sk., B, 4633-4636; C, 318-344 



362 CHAUCER 28-6s 

To saffron with my predicacioun, 

And for to stire men to devocioun. 

Than shewe I forth my longe cristal stones, 

Y-crammed ful of cloutes and of bones; 

Reliks been they, as wenen they echoon. 

Than have I in latoun a sholder-boon 

Which that was of an holy lewes sheep. 

''Good men,'^ seye I, "tak of my wordes keep. 

If that this boon be wasshe in any welle. 

If cow or calf or sheep or oxe swelle 

That any worm hath ete, or worm y-stonge, 

Tak water of that welle and wash his tonge. 

And it is hool anon; and forthermore. 

Of pokkes and of scabbe, and every sore 

Shal every sheep be hool that of this welle 

Drinketh a draughte: tak keep eek what I telle. 

If that the good man that the bestes oweth 

Wol every wike, er that the cok him croweth, 

Fasting drinken of this welle a draughte. 

As thilke holy lew our eldres taughte. 

His bestes and his stoor shal multiplye. 

And, sirs, also it heleth lalousye; 

For though a man be falle in lalous rage, 

Let maken with this water his potage 

And nevere shal he more his wyf mistriste. 

Though he the sooth of hir defaute wiste, 

Al had she taken preestes two or three. 

"Heer is a miteyn eek that ye may see. 
He that his hond wol putte in this miteyn. 
He shal have multiplying of his greyn. 
Whan he hath sowen, be it whete or otes. 
So that he offre pens or elles grotes. 

"Good men and wommen, o thing warne I yow, 
If any wight be in this chirche now 
That hath doon sinne horrible, that he 
Dar nat, for shame, of it y-shriven be, 
Or any womman, be she yong or old. 
That hath y-maad hir housbond cokewold, 

Sk.. C, 345-382 



I 



66-103 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 363 

Swich folk shul have no power ne no grace 
To offren to my reliks in this place. 
And who-so findeth him out of swich blame, 
He wol come up and offre in Goddes name, 
And I assoille him by the auctoritee 
Which that by bulle y-graunted was to me." 
By this gaude have I wonne, yeer by yeer, 
An hundred mark sith I was Pardoner. 
I stonde lyk a clerk in my pulpet, 
And whan the lewed peple is doun y-set, 
I preche, so as ye han herd bifore, 
And telle an hundred false lapes more. 
Than peyne I me to strecche forth the nekke. 
And est and west upon the peple I bekke, 
As doth a dowve sitting on a berne. 
Myn hondes and my tonge goon so yerne 
That it is loye to see my bisinesse. 
Of avaryce and of swich cursednesse 
Is al my preching, for to make hem free 
To yeve her pens, and namely un-to me. 
For my entente is nat but for to winne, 
And no-thing for correccioun of sinne. 
I rekke nevere, whan that they ben beried, 
Though that her soules goon a-blakeberied! 
For certes, many a predicacioun 
Comth ofte tyme of yvel entencioun; 
Som for plesaunce of folk and flaterye, 
To been avaunced by ipocrisye, 
And som for veyne glorie and som for hate. 
For whan I dar non other weyes debate, 
Than wol I stinge him with my tonge smerte 
In preching so that he shal nat asterte 
To been defamed falsly, if that he 
Hath trespased to my brethren or to me. 
For, though I telle noght his propre name, 
Men shal wel knowe that it is the same 
By signes and by othere circumstances. 
Thus quyte I folk that doon us displesances; 

Sk., C, 383-420 



364 CHAUCER i04-i4i 

Thus spitte I oute my venim under hewe 
Of holynesse, to seme holy and trewe. 

But shortly myn entente I wol devyse; 
I preche no-thing but for coveityse. 
Therfore my theme is yet, and evere was — 
^^ Radix malorum est cupiditas.^* 
Thus can I preche agayn the same vyce 
Which that I use, and that is avaryce. 
But, though my-self be gilty in that sinne, 
Yet can I maken other folk to twinne 
From avaryce, and sore to repente. 
But that is nat my principal entente. 
I preche no- thing but for coveityse; 
Of this matere it oughte y-nogh suffyse. 

Than telle I hem ensamples many oon 
Of olde stories longe tyme agoon: 
For lewed peple loven tales olde; 
Swich thinges can they wel reporte and holde. 
What? trowe ye, the whyles I may preche 
And winne gold and silver for I teche, 
That I wol live in poverte wilfully? 
Nay, nay, I thoghte it nevere trewely! 
For I wol preche and begge in sondry londes, 
I wol not do no labour with my hondes, 
Ne make baskettes, and live therby, 
Because I wol nat beggen ydelly. 
I wol non of the apostles counterfete; 
I wol have money e, wolle, chese, and whete, 
Al were it yeven of the povrest page, 
Or of the povrest widwe in a village, 
Al sholde hir children sterve for famyne. 
Nay ! I wol drinke licour of the vyne. 
And have a loly wenche in every toun. 
But herkneth, lordings, in conclusioun; 
Your lyking is that I shal telle a tale. 
Now have I dronke a draughte of corny ale, 
By God, I hope I shal yow telle a thing 
That shal by resoun been at your lyking. 

Sk., C, 421-458 



142-145. THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 365 

Pard. T., 1-28 

For though myself be a ful vicious man, 
A moral tale yet I yow telle can, 
Which I am wont to preche for to winne. 
Now hold your pees, my tale I wol beginne. 



THE PARDONERS TALE 

Here biginneth the Pardoners Tale. 

In Flaundres whylom was a companye 

Of yonge folk that haunteden folye, 

As ryot, hasard, stewes, and tavernes, 

Wher-as with harpes, lutes, and giternes, 

They daunce and pleye at dees bothe day and night, 

And ete also and drinken over hir might, 

Thurgh which they doon the devel sacrifyse 

With-in that develes temple in cursed wyse 

By superfiuitee abhominable. 

Hir othes been so grete and so dampnable 

That it is grisly for to here hem swere: 

Our blissed lordes body they to-tere. 

Hem thoughte lewes rente him noght y-nough; 

And ech of hem at otheres sinne lough. 

And right anon than comen tombesteres 

Fetys and smale, and yonge fruytesteres, 

Singers with harpes, baudes, wafereres, 

Which been the verray develes officeres 

To kindle and blowe the fyr of lecherye, 

That is annexed un-to glotonye. 

The holy writ take I to my witnesse 

That luxurie is in wyn and dronkenesse. 

Lo, how that dronken Loth unkindely 

Lay by his doghtres two unwitingly; 

So dronke he was, he niste what he wroghte. 

Herodes (who-so wel the stories soghte), 

Whan he of wyn was replet at his feste. 

Right at his owene table he yaf his heste 

Sk., C, 459-490 



366 CHAUCER 29-66 

To sleen the Baptist lohn ful giltelees. 

Senek seith eek a good word doutelees. 
He seith he can no difference finde 
Bitwix a man that is out of his minde 
And a man which that is dronkelewe, 
But that woodnesse y-fallen in a shrewe ^--L^ 
Persevereth lenger than doth dronkenesse. " "^v- 

O glotonye, ful of cursednesse, 
O cause first of our confusioun, 
O original of our dampnacioun, 
Til Crist had boght us with his blood agayn! 
Lo, how dere, shortly for to sayn, 
Aboght was thilke cursed vileinye; 
Corrupt was al this world for glotonye! 

Adam our fader and his wyf also 
From Paradys to labour and to wo 
Were driven for that vyce, it is no drede; 
For whyl that Adam fasted, as I rede. 
He was in Paradys, and whan that he 
Eet of the fruyt defended on the tree. 
Anon he was out-cast to wo and peyne. 
O glotonye, on thee wel oghte us pleyne! 
O, wiste a man how many maladyes 
Folwen of excesse and of glotonyes, 
He wolde been the more mesurable 
Of his diete, sitting at his table. 
Alias! the shorte throte, the tendre mouth, 
Maketh that est and west and north and south, 
In erthe, in eir, in water, men to-swinke 
To gete a glotoun deyntee mete and drinke! 
Of this matere, O Paul, wel canstow trete: 
" Mete un-to wombe, and wombe eek un-to mete, 
Shal God destroyen bothe," as Paulus seith. 
Alias! a foul thing is it, by my feith, 
To seye this word, and fouler is the dede. 
Whan man so drinketh of the whyte and rede 
That of his throte he maketh his privee, 
Thurgh thilke cursed superfluitee. 

Sk., C, 491-528 



67-104 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 367 

The apostel weping seith ful pitously, 
^' Ther walken many of which yow told have I, 
I seye it now weping with pitous voys, 
That they been enemys of Cristes croys, 
Of which the ende is deeth, wombe is her god." 
O wombe! O bely! O stinking cod! 
How greet labour and cost is thee to finde! 
Thise cokes, how they stampe, and streyne, and grinde, 
And turnen substaunce in-to accident 
To fulfille al thy likerous talent! 
Out of the harde bones knokke they 
The mary, for they caste noght a-wey 
That may go thurgh the golet softe and swote; 
Of spicerye, of leef, and bark, and rote 
Shal been his sauce y-maked by delyt 
To make him yet a newer appetyt. 
But certes, he that haunteth swich delyces 
Is deed whyl that he liveth in tho vyces. 

A lecherous thing is wyn, and dronkenesse 
Is ful of stryving and of wrecchednesse. 
O dronke man, disfigured is thy face, 
Sour is thy breeth, foul artow to embrace, 
And thurgh thy dronke nose semeth the soun 
As though thou seydest ay " Sampsoun, Sampsoun; " 
And yet, God wot, Sampsoun drank nevere no wyn. 
Thou fallest as it were a stiked swyn; 
Thy tonge is lost, and al thyn honest cure; 
For dronkenesse is verray sepulture 
Of mannes wit and his discrecioun. 
In whom that drinke hath dominacioun, 
He can no conseil kepe, it is no drede. 
Now kepe yow fro the whyte and fro the rede, 
And namely fro the whyte wyn of Lepe, 
That is to selle in Fish-strete or in Chepe. 
This wyn of Spayne crepeth subtilly 
In othere wynes, growing faste by. 
Of which ther ryseth swich fumositee 
That whan a man hath dronken draughtes three, 

Sk., C, 529-534; 537-568 



368 CHAUCER 105-142 

And weneth that he be at hoom in Chepe, 

He is in Spayne, right at the toun of Lepe, 

Nat at the Rochel, ne at Burdeux toun; 

And thanne wol he seye, "Sampsoun, Sampsoun." 

But herkneth, lordings, o word, I yow preye, 
That alle the sovereyn actes, dar I seye, 
Of victories in the Olde Testament, 
Thurgh verray God that is omnipotent, 
Were doon in abstinence and in preyere; 
Loketh the Bible and ther ye may it lere. 

Loke, Attila, the grete conquerour, 
Deyde in his sleep with shame and dishonour 
Bleding ay at his nose in dronkenesse. 
A capitayn sholde live in sobrenesse 
And over al this, avyseth yow right wel 
What was comaunded un-to Lamuel — 
Nat Samuel, but Lamuel, seye I — 
Redeth the Bible, and finde it expresly 
Of wyn-yeving to hem that han lustyse. 
Na-more of this, for it may wel suffyse. 

And now that I have spoke of glotonye, 
Now wol I yow defenden hasardrye. 
Hasard is verray moder of lesinges, 
And of deceit, and cursed forsweringes. 
Blaspheme of Crist, manslaughtre, and wast also 
Of catel and of tyme; and forthermo. 
It is repreve and contrarie of honour 
For to ben holde a commune hasardour. 
And evere the hyer he is of estaat, 
The more is he holden desolaat. 
If that a prince useth hasardrye, 
In alle governaunce and policye 
He is, as by commune opinioun, 
Y-holde the lasse in reputacioun. 

Stilbon, that was a wys embassadour, 
Was sent to Corinthe in ful greet honour 
Fro Lacidomie to make hir alliaunce. 
And whan he cam, him happede par chaunce 

Sk., C, 569-606 



143-180 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 369 

That alle the grettest that were of that lond, 
Pleying atte hasard he hem fond. 
For which, as sone as it mighte be, 
He stal him hoom agayn to his contree, 
And seyde, ^'Ther wol I nat lese my name; 
Ne I wol nat take on me so greet defame 
Yow for to allye un-to none hasardours. 
Sendeth othere wyse embassadours; 
For, by my trouthe, me were lever dye 
Than I yow sholde to hasardours allye. 
For ye that been so glorious in honours 
Shul nat allyen yow with hasardours 
As by my wille, ne as by my tretee." 
This wyse philosophre, thus seyde he. 

Loke eek that, to the king Demetrius 
The king of Parthes, as the book seith us, 
Sente him a paire of dees of gold in scorn. 
For he had used hasard ther-biforn; 
For which he heeld his glorie or his renoun 
At no value or reputacioun. 
Lordes may finden other maner pley 
Honest y-nough to dryve the day awey. 

Now wol I speke of othes false and grete 
A word or two, as olde bokes trete. 
Gret swering is a thing abhominable. 
And false swering is yet more reprevable. 
The heighe God forbad swering at al, 
Witnesse on Mathew; but in special 
Of swering seith the holy leremye, 
''Thou shalt seye sooth thyn othes, and nat lye, 
And swere in doom and eek in rightwisnesse;" 
But ydel swering is a cursednesse. 
Bihold and see that in the firste table 
Of heighe Goddes hestes honurable 
How that the second heste of him is this — 
''Tak nat my name in ydel or amis." 
Lo, rather he forbedeth swich swering, 
Than homicyde or many a cursed thing; 

Sk., C, 607-644 



370 CHAUCER 181-218 

I sey? that as by ordre thus it stondeth; 

This knowen, that his hestes understondeth, 

How that the second heste of God is that. 

And forther over, I wol thee telle al plat 

That vengeance shal nat parten from his hous 

That of his othes is to outrageous. 

''By Goddes precious herte, and by his nayles, 

And by the blood of Crist, that it is in Hayles, 

Sevene is my chaunce, and thyn is cink and treye; 

By Goddes armes, if thou falsly pleye. 

This daggere shal thurgh-oute thyn herte go" — 

This fruyt cometh of the bicched bones two: 

Forswering, ire, falsnesse, homicyde. 

Now, for the love of Crist that for us dyde, . 

Leveth your othes, bothe grete and smale; 

But, sirs, now wol I telle forth my tale. 

Thise ryotoures three, of which I telle, 
Longe erst er pryme rong of any belle, 
Were set hem in a taverne for to drinke; 
And as they satte, they herde a belle clinke 
Biforn a cors, was caried to his grave. 
That oon of hem gan callen to his knave, 
"Go bet," quod he, "and axe redily 
What cors is this that passeth heer forby; 
And loke that thou reporte his name wel." 

"Sir," quod this boy, "it nedeth nevere-a-del. 
It was me told, er ye cam heer, two houres. 
He was, pardee, an old felawe of youres; 
And sodeinly he was y-slayn to-night, 
For-dronke, as he sat on his bench upright; 
Ther cam a privee theef men clepeth Deeth, 
That in this contree al the peple sleeth. 
And with his spere he smoot his herte a-two 
And wente his wey with-outen wordes mo. 
He hath a thousand slayn this pestilence: 
And, maister, er ye come in his presence, 
Me thinketh that it were a necessarie 
For to be war of swich an adversarie. 

Sk., C, 645-682 



219-256 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 371 

Beth redy for to mete him everemore. 

Thus taughte me my dame, I sey na-more." 

''By Seinte Marie," seyd? this taverner, 

*'The child seith sooth, for he hath slayn this year, 

Henne over a myle, with-in a greet village, 

Bothe man and womman, child and hyne and page. 

I trowe his habitacioun be there; 

To been avysed greet wisdom it were, 

Er that he did a man a dishonour." 

''Ye, Goddes armes," quod this ryotour, 

"Is it swich peril with him for to mete? 

I shal him seke by wey and eek by strete, 

I make avow to Goddes digne bones! 

Herkneth, felawes, we three been al ones; 

Lat ech of us holde up his hond til other, 

And ech of us bicomen otheres brother. 

And we wol sleen this false traytour Deeth. 

He shal be slayn, which that so many sleeth, 

By Goddes dignitee, er it be night." 

Togidres han this? three her trouthes plight 
To live and dyen ech of hem for other 
As though he were his owene y-boren brother. 
And up they sterte al dronken in this rage, 
And forth they goon towardes that village 
Of which the taverner had spoke biforn; 
And many a grisly ooth than han they sworn, 
And Cristes blessed body they to-rente, — 
Deeth shal be deed, if that they may him hente! 

Whan they han goon nat fully half a myle. 
Right as they wolde han troden over a style. 
An old man and a povre with hem mette. 
This olde man ful mekely hem grette. 
And seyde thus, ''Now, lordes, God yow see!" 

The proudest of thise ryotoures three 
Answerde agayn, "What? carl, with sory grace. 
Why artow al forwrapped save thy face? 
Why livestow so longe in so greet age?" 

This olde man gan loke in his visage, 

Sk.. C. 683-720 



372 CHAUCER 257-294 

And seyde thus, ''For I ne can nat finde 

A man, though that I walked in-to Inde, 

Neither in citee nor in no village, 

That wolde chaunge his youthe for myn age; 

And therfore moot I han myn age stille 

As longe tyme as it is Goddes wille. 

Ne deeth, alias! ne wol nat han my lyf. 

Thus walke I lyk a restelees caityf. 

And on the ground, which is my modres gate, 

I knokke with my staf bothe erly and late. 

And seye, *Leve moder, leet me in! 

Lo, how I vanish, flesh and blood and skin! 

Alias! whan shul my bones been at reste? 

Moder, with yow wolde I chaunge my cheste 

That in my chambre longe tyme hath be, 

Ye, for an heyre clout to wrappe me!' 

But yet to me she wol nat do that grace, 

For which ful pale and welked is my face. 

'' But, sirs, to yow it is no curteisye 
To speken to an old man vileinye. 
But he trespasse in word or elles in dede. 
In holy writ ye may your-self wel rede, 
'Agayns an old man, hoor upon his heed. 
Ye sholde aryse;' wherfore I yeve yow reed, 
Ne dooth un-to an old man noon harm now, 
Na-more than ye wolde men did to yow 
In age, if that ye so longe abyde. 
And God be with yow wher ye go or ryde: 
I moot go thider as I have to go." 

''Nay, olde cherl, by God, thou shalt nat so," 
Seyde this other hasardour anon; 
"Thou partest nat so lightly, by Seint lohn! 
Thou spak right now of thilke traitour Deeth, 
That in this contree alle our frendes sleeth. 
Have heer my trouthe, as thou art his aspye. 
Telle wher he is or thou shalt it abye, 
By God and by the holy sacrement! 
For soothly thou art con of his assent, 

Sk., C, 721-758 



295-332 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 373 

To sleen us yonge folk, thou false theef!" 

''Now, sirs," quod he, "if that yow be so leef 
To finde Deeth, turne up this croked wey, 
For in that grove I lafte him, by my fey, 
Under a tree, and ther he wol abyde. 
Nat for your boost he wol him no-thing hyde. 
See ye that ook? Right ther ye shul him finde. 
God save yow, that boghte agayn mankinde, 
And yow amende!" — Thus seyde this olde man. 
And everich of thise ryotoures ran 
Til he cam to that tree, and ther they founde 
Of florins fyne of gold y-coyned rounde 
Wei ny an eighte busshels, as hem thoughte. 
No lenger thanne after Deeth they soughte. 
But ech of hem so glad was of that sighte, 
For that the florins been so faire and brighte. 
That doun they sette hem by this precious hord. 
The worste of hem he spak the firste word : — 

"Brethren," quod he, "tak keep what I seye; 
My wit is greet, though that I bourde and pleye. 
This tresour hath Fortune un-to us yiven. 
In mirthe and lolitee our lyf to liven. 
And lightly as it comth, so wol we spende. 
Ey! Goddes precious dignitee! who wende 
To-day that we sholde han so fair a grace? 
But mighte this gold be caried fro this place 
Hoom to myn hous, or elles un-to youres — 
For wel ye woot that al this gold is oures — 
Than were we in heigh fehcitee. 
But trewely, by day it may nat be: 
Men wolde seyn that we wer^ theves stronge, 
And for our owene tresour doon us honge. 
This tresor moste y-caried be by nighte 
As wysly and as slyly as it mighte. 
Wherfore I red^ that cut among us alle 
Be drawe, and lat see wher the cut wol falle; 
And he that hath the cut with herte blythe 
Shal renne to the toun, and that ful swythe, 

Sk., C, 759-796 



374 CHAUCER 333-370 

And bringe us breed and wyn ful prively. 

And two of us shal kepen subtilly 

This tresor wel; and if he wol nat tarie, 

Whan it is night we wol this tresor carie 

By oon assent, wher-as us thinketh best." 

That oon of hem the cut broughte in his fest, 

And bad hem drawe, and lok^ wher it wol falle; 

And it fil on the yongeste of hem alle; 

And forth toward the toun he wente anon. 

And al-so sone as that he was gon, 

That oon of hem spak thus un-to that other: 

"Thou knowest wel thou art my sworne brother, 

Thy profit wol I telle thee anon. 

Thou woost wel that our felawe is agon; 

And heer is gold, and that ful greet plentee, 

That shal departed been among us three. 

But natheles, if I can shape it so 

That it departed were among us two, 

Had I nat doon a freendes torn to thee?" 

That other answerde, ''I noot how that may be. 
He woot how that the gold is with us tweye; 
What shal we doon, what shal we to him seye?" 

''Shal it be conseil?" seyde the firste shrewe, 
"And I shal tellen thee in wordes fewe 
What we shal doon and bringe it wel aboute." 

"I graunte," quod that other, "out of doute, 
That, by my trouthe, I wol thee nat biwreye." 

"Now," quod the firste, "thou woost wel we be tweye. 
And two of us shal strenger be than oon. 
Loke whan that he is set, and right anoon 
Arys as though thou woldest with him pleye, 
And I shal ryve him thurgh the sydes tweye 
Whyl that thou strogelest with him as in game. 
And with thy dagger^ loke thou do the same. 
And than shal al this gold departed be. 
My dere freend, bitwixen me and thee. 
Than may we bothe our lustes al fulfille, 
And pleye at dees right at our owene wille." 

Sk., C. 797-834 



371-408 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 375 

And thus acorded been thise shrewes tweye 
To sleen the thridde, as ye han herd me seye. 

This yongest, which that wente un-to the toun, 
Ful ofte in herte he rolleth up and doun 
The beautee of thise florins newe and brighte. 

"O Lord!" quod he, "if so were that I mighte 
Have al this tresor to my-self allone, 
Ther is no man that Hveth under the trone 
Of God that sholde Hve so merye as I!" 
And atte laste, the feend, our enemy, 
Putte in his thought that he sholde poyson beye, 
With which he mighte sleen his felawes tweye; 
For-why the feend fond him in swich lyvinge 
That he had leve him to sorwe bringe, 
For this was outrely his fulle entente 
To sleen hem bothe, and nevere to repente. 
And forth he gooth, no lenger wolde he tarie, 
Into the toun, un-to a pothecarie. 
And preyed him that he him wolde selle 
Som poyson that he mighte his rattes quelle; 
And eek ther was a polcat in his hawe, 
That, as he seyde, his capouns had y-slawe; 
And fayn he wolde wreke him, if he mighte, 
On vermine that destroyed him by nighte. 

The pothecarie answerde, "And thou shalt have 
A thing that, al-so God my soule save, 
In al this world ther nis no creature. 
That ete or dronke hath of this confiture 
Noght but the mountance of a corn of whete, 
That he ne shal his lyf anon forlete; 
Ye, sterve he shal, and that in lasse whyle 
Than thou wolt goon a-paas nat but a myle: 
This poyson is so strong and violent." 

This cursed man hath in his hond y-hent 
This poyson in a box, and sith he ran 
In-to the nexte strete un-to a man. 
And borwed of him large hotels three; 
And in the two his poyson poured he; 

Sk., C, 835-872 



376 CHAUCER 409-44S 

The thridde he kepte clene for his drinke. 
For al the night he shoop him for to swinke 
In carying of the gold out of that place. 
And whan this ryotour, with sory grace! 
Had filled with wyn his grete hotels three, 
To his felawes agayn repaireth he. 

What nedeth it to sermone of it more? 
For right as they had cast his deeth bifore, 
Right so they han him slayn, and that anon. 
And whan that this was doon, thus spak that oon, 

"Now lat us sitte and drinke, and make us merie, 
And afterward we wol his body berie." 
And with that word it happed him, par cas, 
To take the hotel ther the poyson was, 
And drank, and yaf his felawe drinke also, 
For which anon they storven bothe two. 

But certes, I suppose that Avicen 
Wroot nevere in no canon, ne in no fen. 
Mo wonder signes of empoisoning 
Than had thise wrecches two er hir ending. 
Thus ended been thise homicydes two, 
And eek the false empoysoner also. 

O cursed sinne, ful of cursednesse! 
O tray tours homicyde, O wikkednesse! 
O glotonye, luxurie, and hasardrye! 
Thou blasphemour of Crist with vileinye 
And othes grete, of usage and of pryde! 
Alias! mankinde, how may it bityde 
That to thy creatour which that thee wroghte, 
And with his precious herte-blood thee boghte. 
Thou art so false and so unkinde, alias! 

Now, goode men, God foryeve yow your trespas. 
And ware yow fro the sinne of avaryce. 
Myn holy pardoun may yow alle waryce. 
So that ye offre nobles or sterUnges, 
Or elles silver broches, spones, ringes. 
Boweth your heed under this holy bulle ! 

Sk., C, 873-909 



446-481 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 377 

Cometh up, ye wyves, offreth of your wolle! 

Your name I entre heer in my rolle anon; 

In- to the bHsse of hevene shul ye gon; 

I yow assoile, by myn heigh power, 

Yow that wol offre, as clene and eek as cleer 

As ye were born: — And, lo, sirs, thus I preche. 

And lesu Crist, that is our soules leche, 

So graunte yow his pardon to receyve; 

For that is best: I wol yow nat deceyve. 

But sirs, o word forgat I in my tale, 
I have relikes and pardon in my male, 
As faire as any man in Engelond, 
Which wer^ me yeven by the popes hond. 
If any of yow wol, of devocioun, 
Offren, and han myn absolucioun, 
Cometh forth anon, and kneleth heer adoun, 
And mekely recey^eth my pardoun: 
Or elles, taketh pardon as ye wende, 
Al newe and f reshe, at every tounes ende, 
So that ye offren alwey newe and newe 
Nobles and pens which that be gode and trewe. 
It is an honour to everich that is heer 
That ye mowe have a suffisant pardoneer 
Tassoille yow in contree as ye ryde 
For aventures which that may bityde. 
Peraventure ther may falle oon or two 
Doun of his hors, and breke his nekke atwo. 
Look which a seuretee is it to yow alle 
That I am in your felaweshipe y-falle. 
That may assoille yow, bothe more and lasse, 
Whan that the soule shal fro the body passe. 
I rede that our host heer shal biginne, 
For he is most envoluped in sinne. 
Com forth, sir host, and offre first anon. 
And thou shalt kiss§ the reliks everichon, 
Ye, for a grote! Unbokele anon thy purs! 

Here is ended the Pardoners Tale. 

Sk., C, 910-945 



378 CHAUCER i-36 

The Prologe of the Wyves Tale of Bathe 

Experience, though noon auctoritee 
Were in this world, were right y-nough to me 
To speke of wo that is in mariage; 
For, lordings, sith I twelf yeer was of age, 
Thonked be God that is eterne on lyve, 
Housbondes at chirche-dore I have had fyve. 
For I so ofte have y- wedded be; 
And alle were worthy men in hir degree. 
Welcome the sixte, whan that evere he shal. 
For sothe, I wol nat kepe me chast in al; 
Whan myn housbonde is fro the world y-gon, 
Som Cristen man shal wedde me anon. 
For than thapostle seith that I am free 
To wedde, a Goddes half, wher it lyketh me. 
He seith that to be wedded is no sinne; 
Bet is to be wedded than to brinne. 
What rekketh me thogh folk seye vileinye 
Of shrewed Lameth and his bigamye? 
I woot wel Abraham was an holy man, 
And lacob eek, as ferforth as I can; 
And ech of hem had wyves mo than two, 
And many another holy man also. 
Whan saugh ye evere in any maner age 
That hye God defended mariage 
By expres word? I pray you tellen me; 
Or wher comanded he virginitee? 
I woot as wel as ye, it is no drede, 
Thapostel, whan he speketh of maydenhede; 
He seyde that precept ther-of had he noon. 
Men may conseille a womman to been oon, 
-^'But conseilling is no comandement; 
" He putte it in our owene lugement. 
For hadde God comanded maydenhede. 
Than had he dampned wedding with the dede; 
And certes, if ther were no seed y-sowe, 
Virginitee, wher-of than sholde it growe? 

Sk., D, 1-8; 45-72 



37-74 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 379 

Poul dorste nat comanden atte leste 

A thing of which his maister yaf noon heste. ' "'' ^ 

The darte is set up for virginitee; 

Cacche who so may, who renneth best lat see. 

But this word is nat take of every wight, 
But ther as God Ust give it of his might. 
I woot wel that thapostel was a mayde; 
But natheless, thogh that he wroot and sayde 
He wolde that every wight were swich as he, 
Al nis but conseil to virginitee. 
And for to been a wyf he yaf me leve 
Of indulgence; so it is no repreve 
To wedde me if that my make dye, 
With-oute excepcioun of bigamye. 

My fourthe housbonde was a revelour, — 
This is to seyn he had a paramour; 
And I was yong and ful of ragerye, 
Stiborn and strong, and loly as a pye. 
Wel coude I daunce to an harpe smale. 
And singe, y-wis, as any nightingale. 
But, Lord Crist! whan that it remembreth me 
Up-on my youthe and on my lolitee 
It tikleth me aboute myn herte rote. 
Unto this day it dooth myn herte bote 
That I have had my world as in my tyme. 
But age, alias! that al wol envenyme. 
Hath me biraft my beautee and my pith: 
Lat go, fare- wel, the devel go therwith! 
The flour is goon, ther is na-more to telle. 
The bren, as I best can, now moste I selle; 
But yet to be right merye wol I fonde. 
Now wol I tellen of my fourthe housbonde. 

I seye I had in herte greet despyt 
That he of any other had delyt. 
But he was quit, by God and by Seint loce! 
I made him of the same w^ode a croce; 
Nat of my body in no foul manere. 
But certeinly, I made folk swich chere 

Sk., D, 73-86; 453-458; 469-486 



380 CHAUCER 75-112 

That in his owene grece I made him frye 

For angre and for verray lalousye. 

By God, in erthe I was his purgatorie, 

For which I hope his soule be in glorie. 

For God it woot, he sat ful of te and song 

Whan that his shoo ful bitterly him wrong. 

Ther was no wight, save God and he, that wiste, 

In many wyse, how sore I him twiste. 

He deyde whan I cam fro Jerusalem, 

And lyth y-grave under the rode-beem, 

Al is his tombe noght so curious 

As was the sepulcre of him Darius, 

Which that Appelles wroghte subtilly; 

It nis but wast to burie him preciously. 

Lat him fare-wel, God yeve his soule reste, 

He is now in his grave and in his cheste. 

My fifthe housbonde, God his soule blesse! 
Which that I took for love and no richesse, 
He som-tyme was a clerk of Oxenford, 
And had left scole, and went at hoom to bord 
With my gossib, dwelling in oure toun, 
God have hir soule! hir name was Alisoun. 
She knew myn herte and eek my privetee 
Bet than our parisshe-preest, so moot I thee! 

And so bifel that ones in a Lente 
(So often tymes I to my gossib wente. 
For evere yet I lovede to be gay 
And for to walke, in March, Averil, and May, 
Fro hous to hous to here sondry talis) 
That lankin clerk, and my gossib Dame Alis, 
And I my-self , in-to the feldes wente. 
M}^n housbonde was at London al that Lente; 
I had the bettre leyser for to pleye. 
And for to see and eek for to be seye 
Of lusty folk; what wiste I wher my grace 
Was shapen for to be, or in what place? 
Therfore I made my visitaciouns 
To vigilies and to processiouns, 

Sk., D, 487-502; 525-532; 543-556 



113-150 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 381 

To preching eek and to thise pilgrimages, 
To pleyes of miracles and mariages, 
And wer^d upon my gaye scarlet gytes. 
Thise wormes, ne this? motthes, ne thise mytes, 
Upon my peril, frete hem nevere a deel ; 
And wostow why? For they were used weel. 

Now wol I tellen forth what happed me. 
I seye that in the feeldes walked we 
Til trewely we had swich daliance, 
This clerk and I, that of my purveyance 
I spak to him, and seyde him how that he, 
If I were widwe, sholde wedde me. 
For certeinly, I sey for no bobance, 
Yet was I nevere with-outen purveyance 
Of mariage, nof othere thinges eek. 
I holde a mouses herte nat worth a leek 
That hath but oon hool for to sterte to. 
And if that faille, than is al y-do. 

I bar him on honde he had enchanted me; 
My dame taughte me that soutiltee. 
And eek I seyde I mette of him al night: 
He wolde han slayn me as I lay upright, 
And al my bed was ful of verray blood, 
But yet I hope that he shal do me good; 
For blood bitokeneth gold, as me was taught. 
And al was fals, I dremed it right naught, 
But as I folwed ay my dames lore. 
As wtI of this as of other thinges more. 

But now, sir, lat me see, what shal I seyn? 
A ! ha ! by God, I have my tale ageyn. 

Whan that my fourthe housbond? was on bere, 
I weep algate, and made a, sory chere, 
As wyves moten, for it is usage. 
And with my coverchief covered my visage; 
But for that I was purveyed of a make, 
I weep but smal, and that I undertake. 

To chirche was myn housbonde born a-morwe 
With neighebores, that for him maden sorwe; 

St., D, 557-594 



382 CHAUCER isi-iss 

And lankin oure clerk was oon of tho. 

As helpe me God, whan that I saugh him go 

After the here, me thoughte he had a paire 

Of legges and of feet so clene and faire 

That al myn herte I yaf un-to his hold. 

He was, I trowe, a twenty winter old, 

And I was fourty, if I shal seye sooth; 

But yet I had alwey a coltes tooth. 

Gat-tothed I was, and that bicam me weel; 

I had the prente of Seynte Venus seel. 

As helpe me God, I was a lusty oon, 

And faire and riche, and yong and wel bigoon. 

What sholde I seye, but at the monthes ende 
This loly clerk lankin, that was so hende, 
Hath wedded me with greet solempnitee, 
And to him yaf I al the lond and fee 
That evere was me yeven ther-bifore; 
But afterward repented me ful sore. 
He nolde suffre nothing of my list. 
By God, he smoot me ones on the list, 
For that I rente out of his book a leef , 
That of the strook myn ere wex al deef. 
Stiborn I was as is a leonesse, 
And of my tonge a verray langleresse, 
And walke I wolde, as I had doon biforn. 
From hous to hous, al-though he had it sworn. 
For which he often tymes wolde preche. 
And me of olde Romayn gestes teche 
How he Simplicius Gallus lefte his wyf , 
J ^ And hir forsook for terme of al his lyf , 
Noght but for open-heeded he hir say 
Loking out at his dore upon a day. 

He had a book that gladly night and day 
For his desport he wolde rede alway. 
He cleped it Valerie and Theofraste, , i^* 
At whiche book he lough alwey ful faste. 
And eek ther was som-tyme a clerk at Rome, 
A cardinal that highte Seint lerome, 

Sk., D, 594-606; 627-646; 669-674 



189-226 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 383 

That made a book agayn lovinian, 

In whiche book eek ther was Tertulan, 

Crisippus, Trotula, and Helowys, 

That was abbesse nat fer fro Parys; 

And eek the Parables of Salomon, 

Ovydes Art, and bokes many on. 

And alle thise were bounden in o volume. 

And every night and day was his custume, 

"WTian he had leyser and vacacioun 

From other worldly occupacioun, 

To reden on this book of wikked wyves. 

He knew of hem mo legendes and lyv^es 

Than been of gode wyves in the Bible. 

For trusteth wel, it is an impossible 

That any clerk wol speke good of wyves, 

But-if it be of holy seintes lyves, 

Ne of noon other womman nevere the mo. 

Who peyntede the leomi, tel me who? 

By God, if wommen hadde writen stories. 

As clerkes han with-in hir oratories, 

They wolde han writen of men more wikkednesse 

Than all the mark of Adam may redresse. 

Of Lyma tolde he me, and of Lucye, 
They bothe made hir housbondes for to dye: 
That oon for love, that other was for hate 
Lyma hir housbonde on an even late 
Empoysoned hath, for that she was his fo. 
Lucy a, likerous, loved hir housbonde so 
That, for he sholde alwey up-on hir thinke. 
She yaf him swich a maner love-drinke 
That he was deed er it wer^ by the morwe; 
And thus algates housbondes han sorwe. 

Than tolde he me how oon Latumius 
Compleyned to his felawe Arrius 
That in his gardin growed swich a tree 
On which, he seyde, how that his wyves three 
Hanged hem-self for herte despitous. 

''O leve brother," quod this Arrius, 

Sk., D, 675-696; 747-762 



384 CHAUCER 



227-264 



^'Yif me a plante of thilke blissed tree, 
And in my gardin planted shal it be!" 

Of latter date, of wy ves hath he red. 
That somme han slayn hir housbondes in hir bed; 
Somme han hem yeve poysoun in hir drinke. 
He spak more harm than herte may bithinke. 
And ther-with-al he knew of mo proverbes 
Than in this world ther growen gras or herbes. 

"Bet is," quod he, "thyn habitacioun 
Be with a leoun or a foul dragoun 
Than with a womman using for to chyde. 
Bet is," quod he, "hye in the roof abyde 
Than with an angry wyf doun in the hous: 
They been so wikked and contrarious ; 
They haten that hir housbondes loveth ay." 
He seyde, "A womman cast hir shame away 
Whan she cast of hir smok;" and forther-mo, 
"A fair womman, but she be chaast also, 
Is lyk a gold ring in a sowes nose." 
Who wolde wenen, or who wolde suppose 
The wo that in myn herte was, and pyne? 

And whan I saugh he wolde nevere fyne 
To reden on this cursed book al night, 
Al sodeynly three leves have I plight 
Out of the book, right as he radde, and eke 
I with my fist so took him on the cheke 
That in our fyr he fil bakward adoun. 
And he up-stirte as dooth a wood leoun. 
And with his fist he smoot me on the heed 
That in the floor I lay as I were deed. 
And when he saugh how stille that I lay, 
He was agast, and wolde han fled his way 
Til atte laste out of my swogh I breyde: 
"O! hastow slayn me, false theef?" I seyde, 
" And for my land thus hastow mordred me? 
Er I be deed yet wol I kisse thee." 

And neer he cam, and kneled faire adoun, 
And seyde, *' Dere suster AHsoun, 

Sk., D, 763-766; 771-804 



265-288. 1-8 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 385 

As helpe me God, I shal thee nevere smyte; 

That I have doon, it is thy-self to wyte. 

Foryef it me, and that I thee biseke" — 

And yet eft-sones I hitte him on the cheke, 

And seyde, ''Theef, thus muchel am I wreke; 

Now wol I dye, I may no lenger speke." 

But atte laste, with muchel care and wo, 

We fille acorded by us selven two. 

He yaf me al the brydel in myn hond 

To han the governance of hous and lond, 

And of his tonge and of his hond also. 

And made him brenne his book anon right tho. 

And whan that I had geten un-to me. 

By maistrie, al the soveraynetee, 

And that he seyde, "Myn owene trewe wyf, 

Do as thee lust the terme of al thy lyf , 

Keep thyn honour, and keep eek myn estaat'^ — 

After that day we hadden nevere debaat. 

God helpe me so, I was to him as kinde 

As any wyf from Denmark un-to Inde, 

And also trewe, and so was he to me. 

I prey to God that sit in magestee, 

So blesse his soule for his mercy dere! 

Now wol I sey^ my tale, if ye wol here. 

{Here follow the words between the Somnour and the Frere, and 
the Tale of the Wyf of Bathe) 

Here folweth the Prologe of the Clerkes Tale of Oxenford. 

"Sir clerk of Oxenford," our hoste sayde, 
"Ye ryde as coy and stille as dooth a mayde, 
Wer^ newe spoused, sitting at the bord. 
This day ne herde I of your tonge a word. 
I trowe ye studie aboute som sophyme. 
But Salomon seith, 'Every thing hath tyme.' 
For Goddes sake, as beth of bettre chere, 
It is no tyme for to studien here. 

Sk., D, 805-828; E, 1-8 



386 CHAUCER 9^6 

Telle us som mery tale, by your fey; 
For what man that is entred in a pley, 
He nedes moot unto the pley assente. 
But precheth nat, as freres doon in Lente, 
To make us for our olde sinnes wepe, 
Ne that thy tale make us nat to slepe. 
Telle us som mery thing of aventures. 
Your termes, your colours, and your figures, 
Kepe hem in stoor til so be ye endyte 
Heigh style, as whan that men to kinges wryte. 
Speketh so pleyn at this tyme, I yow preye, 
That we may understonde what ye seye." 

This worthy clerk benignely answerde, 
*'Hoste," quod he, "I am under your yerde; 
Ye han of us as now the governaunce, 
And therfore wol I do yow obeisaunce 
As fer as reson axeth, hardily. 
I wol yow telle a tale which that I 
Lerned at Padowe of a worthy clerk, 
As preved by his wordes and his werk. 
He is now deed and nayled in his cheste, 
I prey to God so yeve his soule reste ! 

''Fraunceys Petrark, the laureat poete, 
Highte this clerk, whos rethoryke sweete 
Enlumined al Itaille of poetrye, 
As Linian dide of philosophye 
Or lawe or other art particuler; 
But Deeth, that wol nat suffre us dwellen heer 
But as it were a twinkling of an ye, 
Hem bothe han slayn, and alle shul we dye. 

"But forth to tellen of this worthy man. 
That taughte me this tale as I bigan, 
I seye that first with heigh style he endyteth, 
Er he the body of his tale wryteth, 
A proheme, in the which discryveth he 
Pemond, and of Saluces the contree. 
And speketh of Apennyn, the hilles hye. 
That been the boundes of West Lumbardye, 

Sk., E, 9^6 



'47-56. THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 387 

Cl. T., 1-21 

And of Mount Vesulus in special, 
Wher as the Poo out of a welle smal 
Taketh his firste springing and his sours, 
That estward ay encresseth in his cours 
To Emelward, to Ferrare, and Venyse: 
The which a long thing were to devyse. 
But trewely, as to my lugement, 
Me thinketh it a thing impertinent, 
Save that he wol conveyen his matere; 
But this his tale, which that ye may here.'* 



THE CLERKES TALE 

Here biginneth the Tale of the Clerk of Oxenford. 

Ther is at the west syde of Itaille, 

Doun at the rote of Vesulus the colde, 

A lusty playn, habundant of vitaille, 

Wher many a tour and toun thou mayst biholde 

That founded were in tyme of fadres olde. 

And many another delitable sighte. 

And Saluces this noble contree highte. 

A markis whylom lord was of that lond. 
As were his worthy eldres him bifore; 
And obeisant and redy to his hond 
Were alle his liges, bothe lasse and more. 
Thus in delyt he liveth, and hath don yore, 
Biloved and drad, thurgh favour of Fortune, 
Bothe of his lordes and of his commune. 

Therwith he was, to speke as of linage. 
The gentilleste y-born of Lumbardye, 
A fair persone, and strong, and yong of age. 
And ful of honour and of curteisye; 
Discreet y-nogh his contree for to gye. 
Save in somme thinges that he was to blame, 
And Walter was this yonge lordes name. 

Sk., E, 47-77 



388 CHAUCER 22-56 

I blame him thus, that he considered noght 
In tyme coming what mighte him bityde, 
But on his lust present was al his thoght, 
As for to hauke and hunte on every syde; 
Wei ny alle othere cures leet he slyde, 
And eek he nolde — and that was worst of alle — 
Wedde no wyf, for noght that may bifalle. 

Only that point his peple bar so sore 
That flokmele on a day they to him wente, 
And oon of hem, that wysest was of lore, 
Or elles that the lord best wolde assente 
That he sholde telle him what his peple mente. 
Or elles coude he shewe wel swich matere, 
He to the markis seyde as ye shul here. 

"O noble markis, your humanitee 
Assureth us and yeveth us hardinesse, 
As ofte as tyme is of necessitee, 
That we to yow mowe telle our hevinesse; 
Accepteth, lord, now for your gentilesse, 
That we with pitous herte un-to yow pleyne. 
And letf your eres nat my voys disdeyne. 

" For certes, lord, so wel us lyketh yow 

x\nd al your werk, and evere han doon, that we 

Ne coude nat us self devysen how 

We mighte liven in more felicitee. 

Save o thing, lord, if it your wille be, , 

That for to been a wedded man yow leste. 

Than were your peple in sovereyn hertes reste. 

"Boweth your nekke under that blisful yok 
Of soveraynetee, noght of servyse, 
Which that men clepeth spousaille or wedlok; 
And thenketh, lord, among your thoghtes wyse. 
How that our dayes passe in sondry wyse. 
For though we slepe or wake, or rome or ryde. 
Ay fleeth the tyme, it nil no man abyde. 

Sk.,E, 78-98; 106-119 



57-91 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 389 

"Accepteth than of us the trewe entente, 
That nevere yet refuseden your heste, 
And we wol, lord, if that ye wol assente, 
Chese yow a wyf in short tyme, atte leste, 
Born of the gentilleste and of the meste 
Of al this lond, so that it oghte seme 
Honour to God and yow, as we can deme. 

"DeHver us out of al this bisy drede, 

And tak a wyf, for hye Goddes sake; 

For if it so bifelle, as God forbede, 

That thurgh your deeth your linage sholde slake, 

And that a straunge successour sholde take 

Your heritage, O! wo were us alyve! 

Wherfore we pray you hastily to wyve." 

Hir meke preyere and hir pitous chere 

Made the markis herte han pitee. 

''Ye wol," quod he, ''myn owene peple dere. 

To that I nevere erst thoghte streyne me. 

I me reioysed of my libertee 

That selde tyme is founde in mariage: 

Ther I was free, I moot been in servage. 

" But nathelees I see your trewe entente. 

And truste upon your wit, and have don ay; 

Wherfore of my free wille I wol assente 

To wedde me as sone as evere I may. 

But ther-as ye han prof red me to-day » 

To chese me a wyf, I yow relesse 

That choys, and prey yow of that profre cesse. 

"And forthermore, this shul ye swere, that ye 
Aga3ni my choys shul neither grucch^ ne stryve; 
For sith I shal forgoon my libertee 
At your requeste, as evere moot I thryve, 
Ther-as myn herte is set, ther wol I wyve. 
And but ye wole assente in swich manere, 
I prey yow, speketh na-more of this matere." 

Sk.. E, 127-154; 169-175 



390 CHAUCER 92-122 

With hertly wille they sworen and assenten 
To al this thing, ther seyde no wight nay; 
Biseking him of grace, er that they wenten, 
That he wolde graunten hem a certein day 
Of his spousaille, as sone as evere he may. 
For yet alwey the peple som-what dredde 
Lest that this markis no wyf wolde wedde. 

He graunted hem a day swich as hem leste, 
On which he wolde be wedded sikerly, 
And seyde he did al this at hir requeste; 
And they, with humble entente, buxomly, 
Kneling up-on hir knees ful reverently 
Him thanken alle, and thus they han an ende 
Of hir entente, and hoom agayn they wende. 

ExpHcit prima pars. Incipit secunda pars 

Noght fer fro thilke paleys honurable 
Ther-as this markis shoop his mariage, 
Ther stood a throp of site delitable 
In which that povre folk of that village 
Hadden hir bestes and hir herbergage. 
And of hir labour took hir sustenance 
After that the erthe yaf hem habundance. 

Amonges thise povre folic ther dwelte a man 
Which that was holden povrest of hem alle; 
But hye God som tyme senden can 
His grace in- to a litel oxes stalle: 
lanicula men of that throp him calle. 
A doghter had he, fair y-nogh to sighte, 
And Grisildis this yonge mayden highte. 

But for to speke of vertuous beautee, 
Than was she oon the faireste under sonne; 
For povreliche y-fostred up was she, 

Sk., E, 176-189; 197-213 



123-154 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 391 

No likerous lust was thurgh hir herte y-ronne. 
Wei ofter of the welle than of the tonne 
She drank, and for she wolde vertu plese, 
She knew wel labour but non ydel ese. 

But thogh this mayde tendre were of age, 

Yet in the brest of hir virgin! tee 

Ther was enclosed rype and sad corage; 

And in greet reverence and charitee 

Hir olde povre fader fostred she. 

A fewe sheep spinning on feeld she kepte, 

She wolde noght been ydel til she slepte. 

Up-on Grisilde, this povre creature, 
Ful ofte sythe this markis sette his ye 
As he on hunting rood paraventure; 
And whan it fil that he mighte hir espye, 
He noght with wantoun loking of folye 
His yen caste on hir, but in sad wyse 
Up-on hir chere he wolde him ofte avyse, 

Commending in his herte hir wommanhede, 
And eek hir vertu, passing any wight 
Of so yong age, as wel in chere as dede. 
For thogh the peple have no greet insight 
In vertu, he considered ful right 
Hir bountee, and disposed that he wolde 
Wedde hir only, if evere he wedde sholde. 

The day of wedding cam, but no wight can 
Telle what womman that it sholde be; 
For which merveille wondred many a man, 
And seyden, whan they were in privetee, 
" Wol nat our lord yet leve his vanitee? 
Wol he nat wedde? Alias, alias, the whyle! 
Why wol he thus him-self and us bigyle?" 

Sk..E. 214-224; 232-252 



392 CHAUCER 155-189 

But natheles this markis hath don make 
Of gemmes set in gold and in asure 
Broches and ringes for Grisildis sake, 
And of hir clothing took he the mesure 
By a mayde lyk to hir stature, 
And eek of othere ornamentes alle 
That un-to swich a wedding sholde falle. 

The tyme of undern of the same, day 
Approcheth, that this wedding sholde be; 
And al the paleys put was in array, 
Bothe halle and chambres, ech in his degree: 
Houses of office stuffed with plentee 
Ther maystow seen of deyntevous vitaille 
That may be founde as fer as last Itaille. 

This royal markis, richely arrayed, 
Lordes and ladyes in his companye, 
The which unto the feste were y-prayed, 
And of his retenue the bachelrye. 
With many a soun of sondry melodye, 
Un-to the village, of the which I tolde, 
In this array the righte wey han holde. 

Grisilde of this, God woot, ful innocent 

That for hir shapen was al this array, 

To fecchen water at a welle is went, 

And Cometh hoom as sone as evere she may. 

For wel she had herd seyd that thilke day 

The markis sholde wedde, and, if she mighte, 

She wolde fayn han seyn som of that sighte. 

She thoghte, ''I wol with othere maydens stonde, 
That been my felawes, in my dore and see 
The markisesse; and therfor§ wol I fonde 
To doon at hoom, as sone as it may be, 
The labour which that longeth un-to me, 
And than I may at leyser hir biholde. 
If she this wey un-to the castel holde." 

Sk., E, 253-287 



190-224 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 393 

And as she wolde over hir threshfold goon, 
The markis cam and gan hir for to calle; 
And she sette doun hir water-pot anoon 
Besyde the threshfold, in an oxes stalle. 
And doun up-on hir knees she gan to falle, 
And with sad contenance kneleth stille 
Til she had herd what was the lordes wille. 

This thoghtful markis spak un-to this mayde 
Ful sobrely, and seyde in this manere, 
"Wher is your fader, O Grisildis?" he sayde, 
And she with reverence, in humble chere, 
Answerde, ^'Lord, he is al redy here." 
And in she gooth with-outen lenger lette, 
And to the markis she hir fader fette. 

He by the hond than took this olde man, 
And seyde thus, whan he him had asyde: 
''lanicula, I neither may ne can 
Lenger the plesance of myn herte hyde. 
If that thou vouche-sauf, what-so bityde, 
Thy doghter wol I take, er that I wende, 
As for my wyf, un-to hir lyves ende. 

''Thou lovest me, I woot it wel, certeyn, 
And art my feithful lige man y-bore; 
And al that lyketh me, I dar wel seyn 
It lyketh thee, and specially therfore 
Tell^ me that poynt that I have seyd bifore. 
If that thou wolt un-to that purpos drawe, 
To take me as for thy sone-in-lawe." 

This sodeyn cas this man astoned so 

That reed he wex, abayst, and al quakinge 

He stood; unnethes seyde he wordes mo. 

But only thus: ''Lord," quod he, "my willinge 

Is as ye wole, ne ayeins your lykinge 

I wol no- thing. Ye be my lord so dere; 

Right as yow lust governeth this matere." 

Sk., E, 288-322 



394 CHAUCER * 225-259 

"Yet wol I," quod this markis softely, 
"That in thy chambre I and thou and she 
Have a collacion, and wostow why? 
For I wol axe if it hir wille be 
To be my wyf, and reule hir after me; 
And al this shal be doon in thy presence, 
I wol noght speke out of thyn audience." 

And in the chambre whyl they were aboute 
Hir tretis, which as ye shal after here, 
The peple cam un-to the hous with-oute, 
And wondred hem in how honest manere 
And tentifly she kepte hir fader dere. 
But outerly Grisildis wondre mighte, 
For nevere erst ne saugh she swich a sighte. 

No wonder is thogh that she were astoned 
To seen so greet a gest come in that place; 
She nevere was to swiche gestes woned, 
For which she loked with ful pale a face. 
But shortly forth this tale for to chace, 
Thise arn the wordes that the markis sayde 
To this benigne verray feithful mayde. 

"Grisilde," he seyde, "ye shul wel understonde 

It lyketh to your fader and to me 

That I yow wedde, and eek it may so stofide, 

As I suppose, ye wol that it so be. 

But thise demandes axe I first," quod he, 

"That, sith it shal be doon in hastif wyse, 

Wol ye assente, or elles yow avyse? 

"I seye this, be ye redy with good herte 
To al my lust, and that I frely may. 
As me best thinketh, do yow laughe or smerte. 
And nevere ye to grucche it, night ne day. 
And eek whan I sey 'Ye,' ne sey sat 'Nay,' 
Neither by word ne frowning contenance; 
Swer this, and heer I swer our alliance." 

Sk., E, 323-357 



260-294 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 395 

Wondring upon this word, quaking for drede, 

She seyde, ''Lord, undigne and unworthy 

Am I to thilke honour that ye me bede; 

But as ye wol your-self, right so wol I. 

And heer I swere that nevere wilhngly 

In werk ne thoght I nil yow disobeye, 

For to be deed, though me wer^ looth to deye." 

"This is y-nogh, Grisilde myn!" quod he. 
And forth he goth with a ful sobre chere 
Out at the dore, and after that cam she, 
And to the peple he seyde in this manere: 
"This is my wyf," quod he, "that stondeth here. 
Honoureth hir, and loveth hir, I preye, 
Who-so me loveth. Ther is na-more to seye." 

And for that no-thing of hir olde gere 
She sholde bringe in-to his hous, he bad 
That wommen sholde dispoilen hir right there; 
Of which thise ladyes were nat right glad 
To handle hir clothes wher-in she was clad. 
But natheles this mayde bright of hewe 
Fro foot to heed they clothed han al newe. 

Hir heres han they kembd, that lay untressed 
Ful rudely, and with hir fingres smale 
A corone on hir heed they han y-dressed, 
And sette hir ful of nowches grete and smale: 
Of hir array sholde I make a tale? 
Unnethe the peple hir knew for hir fairnesse, 
Whan she translated was in swich richesse. 

This markis hath hir spoused with a ring 
Broght for the same cause, and than hir sette 
Up-on an hors, snow- why t and wel ambhng; 
And to his paleys er he lenger lette. 
With loyful peple that hir ladde and mette. 
Conveyed hir, and thus the day they spende 
In revel, til the sonne gan descende. 

Sk., E, 358-392 



396 CHAUCER 295-325 

And shortly forth this tale for to chace, 
I seye that to this newe markisesse 
God hath swich favour sent hir of his grace 
That it ne semed nat by lykhnesse 
That she was born and fed in rudenesse, 
As in a cote or in an oxe-stalle, 
But norished in an emperoures halle. 

To every wight she woxen is so dere 
And worshipful that folk ther she was bore, 
And from hir birthe knewe hir yeer by yere, 
Unnethe trowed they, but dorste han swore 
That to lanicle of which I spak bifore, 
She doghter nas, for, as by coniecture. 
Hem thoughte she was another creature. 

Nat longe tyme after that this Grisild 
Was wedded, she a doughter hath y-bore, 
Al had hir lever have born a knave child. 
Glad was this markis and the folk therfore; 
For though a mayde child come al bifore, 
She may unto a knave child atteyne 
By lyklihede, sin she nis nat bareyne. 

Explicit secunda pars. Incipit tercia pars 

Ther fil, as it bifalleth tymes mo, 

Whan that this child had souked but a throwe. 

This markis in his herte longeth so 

To tempte his wyf, hir sadnesse foy to knowe, 

That he ne mighte out of his herte throwe 

This merveillous desyr, his wyf tassaye, 

Nedeless, God woot, he thoughte hir for taffraye. 

He had assayed hir y-nogh bifore, 
And fond hir evere good: what neded it 
Hir for to tempte and alwey more and more? 

Sk., E, 393-406; 442-458 



326-357 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 397 

Though som men preise it for a subtil wit, 
But as for me, I seye that yvel it sit 
Tassaye a wyf whan that it is no nede, 
And putten her in anguish and in drede. 

For which this markis wroghte in this manere: 
He cam alone a-night, ther as she lay, 
With Sterne face and with ful trouble chere. 
And seyde thus: ''Grisild," quod he, ''that day 
That I yow took out of your povre array. 
And putte yow in estaat of heigh noblesse, 
Ye have nat that forgeten, as I gesse. 

" Ye woot your-self wel how that ye cam here 

In-to this hous, it is nat longe ago. 

And though to me that ye be Hef and dere, 

Un-to my gentils ye be no- thing so; 

They seyn to hem it is greet shame and wo 

For to be subgets and ben in servage 

To thee that born art of a smal village. 

"And namely, sith thy doghter was y-bore, 

Thise wordes han they spoken doutelees; 

But I desyre, as I have doon bifore, 

To live my lyf with hem in reste and pees. 

I may nat in this caas be recchelees. 

I moot don with thy doghter for the beste, 

Nat as I wolde, but as my peple leste. 

"And yet, God wot, this is ful looth to me; 
But nathelees with-oute your witing 
I wol nat doon, but this wol I," quod he, 
"That ye to me assente as in this thing. 
Shewe now your pacience in your werking 
That ye me highte and swore in your village 
That day that maked was our mariage." 

Sk.. E. 459-469; 477-497 



398 CHAUCER 358-392 

Whan she had herd al this, she noght ameved 
Neither in word, or chere, or countenaunce; 
For as it semed, she was nat agreved. 
She seyde, "Lord, al lyth in your plesaunce, 
My child and I with hertly obeisaunce 
Ben youres al, and ye mo we save or spille 
Your owene thing. Werketh after your wille. 

"Ther may no- thing, God so my soule save, 

Lyken to yow that may displese me; 

Ne I desyre no-thing for to have, 

Ne drede for to lese, save only ye. 

This wille is in my herte and ay shal be. 

No lengthe of tyme or deeth may this deface, 

Ne chaunge my corage to another place." 

Glad was this markis of hir answeringe, 
But yet he feyned as he were nat so; 
Al drery was his chere and his lokinge 
Whan that he sholde out of the chambre go. 
Sone after this, a furlong wey or two, 
He prively hath told al his entente 
Un-to a man, and to his wyf him sente. 

A maner sergeant was this privee man, 

The which that feithful ofte he founden hadde 

In thinges grete, and eek swich folk wel can 

Don execucioun on thinges badde. 

The lord knew wel that he him loved and dradde; 

And whan this sergeant wiste his lordes wille, 

In-to the chambre he stalked him ful stille. 

"Madame," he seyde, "ye mote foryeve it me, 
Thogh I do thing to which I am constreyned. 
Ye ben so wys that ful wel knowe ye 
That lordes hestes mowe nat been y-feyned; 
They mowe wel been biwailled or compleyned, 
But men mot nede un-to her lust obeye, 
And so wol I; ther is na-more to seye. 

Sk., E, 498-532 



393^27 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 399 

''This child I am comanded for to take" — 

And spak na-more, but out? the child he hente 

Despitously, and gan a chere make 

As though he wolde han slayn it er he wente. 

Grisildis mot al suffren and consente; 

And as a lamb she sitteth meke and stille, 

And leet this cruel sergeant doon his wille. 

But atte laste speken she bigan, 

And mekely she to the sergeant preyde, 

So as he was a worthy gentil man, 

That she moste kisse hir child er that it deyde; 

And in her barm this litel child she leyde 

With ful sad face, and gan the child to kisse 

And lulled it, and after gan it bHsse. 

And thus she seyde in hir benigne voys: 
''Far weel, my child! I shal thee nevere see; 
But sith I the have marked with the croys, 
Of thilke Fader blessed mote thou be 
That for us deyde up-on a croys of tree. 
Thy soule, litel child, I him bitake, 
For this night shal tow dyen for my sake." 

I trowe that to a norice in this cas 

It had ben hard this rewthe for to se; 

Wei mighte a mooder than han cryed "Alias!" 

But nathelees so sad stedfast was she 

That she endured all adversitee. 

And to the sergeant mekely she sayde, 

"Have heer agayn your litel yonge mayde. 

" Goth now," quod she, "and dooth my lordes heste, 
But o thing wol I preye yow of your grace, 
That, but my lord forbad yow, atte leste 
Burieth this litel body in som place 
That bestes ne no briddes it to-race." 
But he no word wol to that purpos seye, 
But took the child and wente upon his weye, 

Sk.,E, 533-539; 547-574 



400 CHAUCER 428-462 

This sergeant cam un-to his lord ageyn, 

And of Grisildis wordes and hir chere 

He tolde him point for point, in short and playn, 

And him presenteth with his doghter dere. 

Somwhat this lord hath rewthe in his manere; 

But nathelees his purpos heeld he stille, 

As lordes doon whan they wol han hir wille. 

And bad his sergeant that he prively 

Sholde this child ful softe winde and wrappe 

With alle circumstances tendrely, 

And carie it in a cofre or in a lappe; 

But, up-on peyne his heed of for to swappe, 

That no man sholde knowe of his entente, 

Ne whenne he cam, ne whider that he wente; 

But at Boloigne to his suster dere, 

That thilke tyme of Panik was countesse, 

He sholde it take, and shewe hir this matere, 

Biseking hir to don hir bisinesse 

This child to fostre in alle gentilesse, 

And whos child that it was he bad hir hyde 

From every wight, for oght that may bityde. 

The sergeant gooth, and hath fulfild this thing; 

But to this markis now retourne we. 

For now goth he ful faste imagining 

If by his wyves chere he mighte see, 

Or by hir word aperceyve that she 

Were chaunged; but he nevere hir coude finde 

But evere in oon y-lyke sad and kinde. 

As glad, as humble, as bisy in servyse, 
And eek in love as she was wont to be, 
Was she to him in every maner wyse; 
Ne of hir doghter noght a word spak she. 
Non accident for noon adversitee 
Was seyn in hir, ne nevere hir doghter name 
Ne nempned she, in ernest nor in game. 
Explicit tercia pars. Sequitur pars quarta 

Sk., E, 575-609 



463-497 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 401 

In this estaat ther passed been foure yeer 

Er she with childe was; but as God wolde, 

A knave child she bar by this Walter, 

Ful gracious and fair for to biholde. 

And whan that folk it to his fader tolde, 

Nat only he, but al his contree, merie 

Was for this child, and God they thanke and herie. 

Whan it was two yeer old, and fro the brest 
Departed of his norice, on a day 
This markis caughte yet another lest 
To tempte his wyf yet ofter if he may. 
O nedeles was she tempted in assay! 
But wedded men ne knowe no mesure. 
Whan that they finde a pacient creature. 

"Wyf," quod this markis, "ye han herd er this, 
My peple sikly berth our mariage; 
And namely sith my sone y-boren is, 
Now is it worse than evere in al our age. 
The murmur sleeth myn herte and my corage; 
For to myne eres comth the voys so smerte 
That it wel ny destroyed hath myn herte. 

"Now sey they thus: 'Whan Walter is agoon, 
Then shal the blood of lanicle succede 
And been our lord, for other have we noon;' 
Swich wordes seith my peple, out of drede. 
Wel oughte I of swich murmur taken hede; 
For certeinly I drede swich sentence, 
Though they nat pleyn speke in myn audience. 

"I w^olde live in pees, if that I mighte; 
Wherfore I am disposed outerly, 
As I his suster servede by nighte, 
Right so thenke I to serve him prively. 
This warne I yow% that ye nat sodeynly 
Out of your-self for no wo sholde outraye: 
Beth pacient, and ther-of I yow preye." 

Sk., E, 610-644 



402 CHAUCER 498-532 

"I hav?," quod she, "seyd thus, and evere shal, 

I wol no thing, ne nil no thing, certayn. 

But as yow list. Noght greveth me at al, 

Thogh that my doghter and my son? be slayn, — 

At your comandement, this is to sayn. 

I have noght had no part of children tweyne 

But first siknesse and after wo and peyne. 

*' Ye been our lord, doth with your owene thing 

Right as yow list; axeth no reed at me. 

For as I lefte at hoom al my clothing, 

Whan I first cam to yow, right so," quod she, 

''Left I my wille and al my libertee. 

And took your clothing: wherfore I yow preye, 

Doth your plesaunce, I wol your lust obeye. 

"And certes, if I hadde prescience 

Your wille to knowe er ye your lust me tolde, 

I wolde it doon with-outen necligence; 

But now I woot your lust and what ye wolde, 

Al your plesaunce ferme and stable I holde. 

For wiste I that my deeth wolde do yow ese, 

Right gladly wolde I dyen, yow to plese. 

"Deth may noght make no comparisoun 
Un-to your love:" and whan this markis sey 
The Constance of his wyf , he caste adoun 
His yen two, and wondreth that she may 
In pacience suffre al this array. 
And forth he gooth with drery contenaunce, 
But to his herte it was ful greet plesaunce. 

This ugly sergeant in the same wyse 
That he hir doghter caughte, right so he. 
Or worse if men worse can devyse, 
Hath hent hir sone, that ful was of beautee. 
And evere in oon so pacient was she 
That she no chere made of hevinesse, 
But kiste hir sone, and after gan it blesse; 

Sk., E, 645-679 



533-567 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 403 

Save this: she preyed him that, if he mighte, 
Her litel sone he wolde in erthe grave, 
His tendre limes, delicat to sighte, 
Fro foules and fro bestes for to save. 
But she non answere of him mighte have. 
He wente his wey, as him no- thing ne roghte; 
But to Boloigne he tendrely it broghte. 

This markis wondreth evere lenger the more 

Up-on hir pacience, and if that he 

Ne hadde soothly knowen ther-bifore 

That parfitly hir children lovede she, 

He wolde have wend that of som subtiltee, 

And of malice or for cruel corage, 

That she had suffred this with sad visage. 

But wel he knew that next him-self, certayn, 
She loved hir children best in every wyse. 
But now of wommen wolde I axen fayn 
If thise assayes mighte nat suffyse? 
What coude a sturdy housbonde more devyse 
To preve hir wyfhod and hir stedfastensse, 
And he continuing evere in sturdinesse? 

The sclaundre of Walter ofte and wyde spradde, 

That of a cruel herte he wikkedly, 

For he a povre womman wedded hadde. 

Hath mordred bothe his children prively. 

Swich murmur was among hem comunly. 

No wonder is, for to the peples ere 

Ther cam no word but that they mordred were. 

For which, wher-as his peple ther-bifore 

Had loved him wel, the sclaundre of his diffame 

Made hem that they him hatede therfore; 

To been a mordrer is an hateful name. 

But natheles, for ernest ne for game 

He of his cruel purpos nolde stente; 

To tempte his wyf was set al his entente. 

Sk., E, 680-700; 722-735 



404 CHAUCER 568^02 

Whan that his doghter twelf yeer was of age, 
He to the court of Rome in subtil wyse, 
Enformed of his wille, sente his message, 
Comaunding hem swiche bulks to devyse 
As to his cruel purpos may suffyse, 
How that the pope, as for his peples reste. 
Bad him to wedde another, if him leste. 

I seye, he bad they sholde countrefete 

The popes bulles, making mencioun 

That he hath leve his iirste wyf to lete 

As by the popes dispensacioun, 

To stinte rancour and dissencioun 

Bitwixe his peple and him: thus seyde the bulle. 

The which they han publiced atte fuUe. 

The rude peple, as it no wonder is, 
Wenden ful wel that it had been right so; 
But whan thise tydinges cam to Grisildis, 
I deme that hir herte was ful wo. 
But she, y-lyke sad for everemo. 
Disposed was, this humble creature, 
Thadversitee of fortune al tendure, 

Abyding evere his lust and his plesaunce, 
To whom that she was yeven, herte and al, 
As to hir verray worldly sufhsaunce. 
But shortly if this storie I tellen shal, 
This markis writen hath in special 
A lettre in which he sheweth his entente, 
And secretly he to Boloigne it sente. 

To the erl of Panik, which that hadde tho 

Wedded his suster, preyde he specially 

To bringen hoom agayn his children two 

In honurable estaat al openly. 

But o thing he him preyede outerly. 

That he to no wight, though men wolde enquere, 

Sholde nat telle whos children that they were, 

Sk., E, 736-770 



603-635 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 405 

But seye the mayden sholde y-wedded be 
Un-to the markis of Saluce anon. 
And as this erl was preyed, so did he; 
For at day set he on his wey is goon 
Toward Saluce, and lordes many oon, 
In riche array, this mayden for to gyde, 
Hir yonge brother ryding hir bisyde. 

Arrayed was toward hir mariage 

This fresshe mayde, ful of gemmes clere; 

Hir brother, which that sevene yeer was of age, 

Arrayed eek ful freshe in his manere. 

And thus in greet noblesse and with glad chere, 

Toward Saluces shaping hir lourney. 

Fro day to day they ryden in hir wey. 

Explicit quarta pars. Sequitur quinta pars. 

Among al this, after his wikke usage. 

This markis yet his wyf to tempte more 

To the uttereste preve of hir corage, 

Fully to han experience and lore 

If that she were as stedfast as bifore. 

He on a day in open audience 

Ful boistously hath seyd hir this sentence: 

"Certes, Grisilde, I had y-nough plesaunce 
To han yow to my wyf for your goodnesse, 
As for your trouthe and for your obeisaunce, 
Nought for your linage ne for your richesse; 
But now knowe I in verray soothfastnesse 
That in gret lordshipe, if I wel avyse, 
Ther is gret servitute in sondry wyse. 

"I may nat don as every plowman may; 
My peple me constreyneth for to take 
Another wyf, and cryen day by day; 
And eek the pope, rancour for to slake, 
Consenteth it, that dar I undertake. 

Sk., E, 771-803 



406 CHAUCER 636-668 

And treweliche thus muche I wol yow seye, 
My newe wyf is coming by the weye. 

"Be strong of herte, and voyde anon hir place, 
And thilke dowere that ye broghten me 
Tak it agayn, I graunte it of my grace; 
Retourneth to your fadres hous," quod he. 
"No man may alwey han prosperitee; 
With evene herte I rede yow tendure 
The strook of fortune or of aventure." 

And she answerde agayn in pacience, 

"My lord," quod she, "I woot, and wiste alway 

How that bitwixen your magnificence 

And my poverte no wight can ne may 

Maken comparison; it is no nay. 

I ne heeld me nevere digne in no manere 

To be your wyf, no, ne your chamberere. 

"And of your newe wyf, God of his grace 
So graunte yow wele and prosperitee; 
For I wol gladly yelden hir my place, 
In which that I was blisful wont to be. 
For sith it lyketh yow, my lord," quod she, 
"That whylom weren al myn hertes reste, 
That I shal goon, I wol gon whan yow leste. 

"But ther-as ye me prof re swich dowaire 
As I first broghte, it is wel in my minde 
It were my wrecched clothes, no-thing faire. 
The which to me were hard now for to finde. 
O gode God! how gen til and how kinde 
Ye semed by your speche and your visage 
The day that maked was our mariage! 

"My lord, ye woot that in my fadres place 
Ye did me strepe out of my povre wede. 
And richely me cladden, of your grace. 

Sk., E, 804-819; 841-854; 862 864 



669-703 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 407 

To yow broghte I noght elles, out of drede, 
But feyth and nakednesse and maydenhede. 
And heer agayn my clothing I restore, 
And eek my wedding-ring for everemore. 

" The remenant of your lewels redy be 
In- with your chambre, dar I saufly sayn; 
Naked out of my fadres hous," quod she, 
"I cam, and naked moot I turne agayn. 
Al your plesaunce wol I folwen fayn; 
But yet I hope it be nat your entente 
That I smoklees out of your paleys wente." 

"The smok," quod he, "that thou hast on thy bak, 
Lat it be stille, and ber it forth with thee." 
But wel unnethes thilke word he spak, 
But wente his wey for rewthe and for pi tee. 
Biforn the folk hir-selven strepeth she. 
And in hir smok, with heed and foot al bare, 
Toward hir fader hous forth is she fare. 

The folk hir folwe weping in hir weye, 
And fortune ay they cursen as they goon; 
But she fro weping kepte hir yen dreye, 
Ne in this tyme word ne spak she noon. 
Hir fader, that this tydinge herde annoon, 
Curseth the day and tyme that nature 
Shoop him to been a lyves creature. 

For out of dout^ this olde povre man 
Was evere in suspect of hir mariage; 
For evere he demed sith that it bigan 
That whan the lord fulfild had his corage 
Him wolde thinke it were a disparage 
To his estaat so lowe for talighte. 
And voyden hir as sone as evere he mighte. 

Agayns his doghter hastiHch goth he, 
For he by noyse of folk knew hir cominge, 
And with hir olde cote, as it mighte be, 

Sk., E, 865-875: 890-913 



408 CHAUCER 704-735 

He covered hir, ful sorwefully wepinge; 
But on hir body mighte he it nat bringe. 
For rude was the cloth, and more of age 
By dayes fele than at hir mariage. 

Thus with hir fader, for a certeyn space, 
Dwelleth this flour of wyfly pacience, 
That neither by hir wordes ne hir face 
Biforn the folk, ne eek in hir absence, 
Ne shewed she that hir was doon offence; 
Ne of hir heigh estaat no remembraunce 
Ne hadde she, as by hir countenaunce. 

Men speke of lob and most for his humblesse, 
As clerkes, whan hem list, can wel endyte, 
Namely of men; but as in soothfastnesse, 
Thogh clerkes preyse wommen but a lyte, 
Ther can no man in humblesse him acquyte 
As womman can, ne can ben half so trewe 
As wommen been, but it be falle of-newe. 

Explicit quinta pars. Sequitur pars sexta. 

Fro Boloigne is this erl of Panik come, 

Of which the fame up-sprang to more and lesse. 

And in the peples eres alle and some 

Was couth eek that a newe markisesse 

He with him broghte, in swich pompe and richesse 

That nevere was ther seyn with mannes ye 

So noble array in al West Lumbardye. 

The markis, which that shoop and knew al this, 
Er that this erl was come sente his message 
For thilke sely povre Grisildis; 
And she with humble herte and glad visage, 
Nat with no swollen thoght in hir corage, 
Cam at his heste, and on hir knees hir sette. 
And reverently and wysly she him grette. 

Sk., E, 914-924; 932-952 



736-770 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 409 

"Grisild," quod he, "my wille is outerly, 
This mayden, that shal wedded been to me, 
Receyved be to-morwe as royally 
As it possible is in myn hous to be. 
And eek that every wight in his degree 
Have his estaat in sitting and servyse 
And heigh plesaunce, as I can best devyse. 

"I have no wommen suffisaunt certayn 
The chambres for tarraye in ordinaunce 
After my lust, and therfor^ wolde I fayn 
That thyn were al swich maner govemaunce; 
Thou knowest eek of old al my plesaunce. 
Though thyn array be badde and yvel biseye. 
Do thou thy devoir at the leeste weye." 

"Nat only, lord, that I am glad," quod she, 
"To doon your lust, but I desyre also 
Yow for to serve and plese in my degree 
With-outen feynting, and shal everemo. 
Ne nevere, for no wele ne no wo, 
Ne shal the gost with-in myn herte stente 
To lov^ yow best with al my trewe entente." 

And with that word she gan the hous to dighte, 
And tables for to sette and beddes make; 
And peyned hir to doon al that she mighte, 
Preying the chambereres, for Goddes sake, 
To hasten hem, and faste swepe and shake. 
And she, the moste servisable of alle. 
Hath every chambre arrayed and his halle. 

Abouten undern gan this erl alighte. 

That with him broghte thise noble children tweye, 

For which the peple ran to seen the sighte 

Of hir array so richely biseye; 

And than at erst amonges hem they seye 

That Walter was no fool, thogh that him leste 

To chaunge his wyf, for it was for the beste. 

Sk., E, 953-987 



410 CHAUCER 771-805 

For she is fairer, as they demen alle, 

Than is Grisild, and more tendre of age, 

And fairer fruit bitwene hem sholde falle, 

And more plesant, for hir heigh Hnage. 

Hir brother eek so fair was of visage 

That hem to seen the peple hath caught plesaunce, 

Commending now the markis gouernaunce. 

"O stormy peple! unsad and evere untrewe! 

Ay undiscreet and chaunging as a vane, 

Delyting evere in rumbel that is newe, 

For lyk the mone ay wexe ye and wane; 

Ay ful of clapping, dere y-nogh a lane; 

Your doom is fals, your Constance yvel preveth, 

A ful greet fool is he that on yow leveth!" — 

Thus seyden sadde folk in that citee. 
Whan that the peple gazed up and doun. 
For they were glad, right for the noveltee, 
To han a newe lady of hir toun. 
Na-more of this make I now mencioun; 
But to Grisilde agayn wol I me dresse, 
And telle hir Constance and hir bisinesse. 

Ful bisy was Grisilde in every thing 
That to the feste was apertinent; 
Right noght was she abayst of hir clothing. 
Though it were rude and somdel eek to-rent. 
But with glad chere to the yate is went 
With other folk to grete the markisesse, 
And after that doth forth hir bisinesse. 

In al this mene whyle she ne stente 
This mayde and eek hir brother to commende 
With al hir herte in ful benigne entente, 
So wel that no man coude hir prys amende. 
But atte laste, whan thise lordes wende 
To sitten doun to mete, he gan to calle 
Grisilde as she was bisy in his halle. 

Sk.. E. 988-1015: 1023-1029 



806-840 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 411 

"Grisild^," quod he, as it were in his pley, 
"How lyketh thee my wyf and hir beautee?" 
"Right wel," quod she, "my lord. For in good fey, 
A fairer say I nevere noon than she. 
I prey to God yeve hir prosperitee; 
And so hope I that he wol to yow sende 
Plesance y-nogh un-to your lyves ende. 

"O thing biseke I yow and warne also, 
That ye ne prikke with no tormentinge 
This tendre mayden, as ye han don mo; ^>'^ 
For she is fostred in hir norishinge 
More tendrely, and to my supposinge 
She coude nat adversitee endure 
As coude a povre fostred creature." 

And whan this Walter say hir pacience, 
Hir glade chere and no malice at al, 
And he so ofte had doon to hir offence, 
And she ay sad and constant as a wal, 
Continuing evere hir innocence overal, 
This sturdy markis gan his herte dresse 
To rewen up-on hir wyfly stedfastnesse. 

"This is y-nogh, Grisilde myn," quod he, 
"Be now na-more agast ne yvel apayed. 
I have thy feith and thy benignitee. 
As wel as evere womman was, assayed, 
In greet estaat, and povreliche arrayed. 
Now knowe I, dere w}^f, thy stedfastnesse," — 
And hir in armes took and gan hir kesse. 

And she for wonder took of it no keep; 
She herde nat what thing he to hir seyde; 
She ferde as she had stert out of a sleep. 
Til she out of hir masednesse abreyde, 
"Grisild?," quod he, "by God that for us deyde, 
Thou art my wyf, ne noon other I have, 
Ne nevere had, as God my soule save! 

Sk.. E, 1030-1064 



412 CHAUCER 841-875 

"This is thy doghter which thou hast supposed 
To be my wyf ; that other feithfully 
Shal be myn heir, as I have ay purposed: 
Thou bare him in thy body trewely. 
At Boloigne have I kept hem prively; 
Tak hem agayn, for now maystow nat seye 
That thou hast lorn non of thy children tweye. 

"And folk that other wey^s han seyd of me, 
I warne hem wel that I have doon this dede 
For no malice ne for no crueltee. 
But for tassaye in the^e thy wommanhede, 
And nat to sleen thy children, God forbede! 
But for to kepe hem prively and stille 
Til I thy purpos knewe and al thy wille." 

Whan she this herde, aswowne doun she falleth 
For pi tons loye, and after hir swowninge 
She bothe hir yonge children un-to hir calleth. 
And in hir armes, pitously wepinge, 
Embraceth hem, and tendrely kissinge 
Ful lyk a mooder, with hir salte teres 
She batheth bothe hir visage and hir heres. 

O, which a pitous thing it was to see 

Hir swowning, and hir humble voys to here ! 

" Grauntmercy, lord, that thanke I yow," quod she, 

"That ye han saved me my children dere! 

Now rekke I nevere to ben deed right here; 

Sith I stonde in your love and in your grace, 

No fors of deeth, ne whan my spirit pace! 

"O tendre, O dere, O yonge children myne. 

Your woful mooder wende stedfastly 

That cruel houndes or som foul vermyne 

Had eten yow; but God of his mercy. 

And your benigne fader tendrely 

Hath doon yow kept;" and in that same stounde 

Al sodeynly she swapte adoun to grounde. 

Sk., E, 1065-1099 



876-910 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 413 

And in her swough so sadly holdeth she 
Hir children two, whan she gan hem tembrace, 
That with greet sleighte and greet difficultee 
The children from hir arm they gonne arace. 
O many a tere on many a pitous face 
Doun ran of hem that stoden hir bisyde; 
Unnethe abouten hir mighte they abyde. 

Walter hir gladeth, and hir sorwe slaketh; 
She ryseth up abaysed from hir traunce, 
And every wight hir loye and feste maketh 
Til she hath caught ^gayn hir contenaunce. 
Walter hir dooth so feithfully plesaunce 
That it was deyntee for to seen the chere 
Bitwixe hem two, now they ben met y-fere. 

Thise ladyes, whan that they hir tyme say, 
Han taken hir and in-to chambre goon, 
And strepen hir out of hir rude array, 
And in a cloth of gold that brighte shoon, 
With a coroune of many a riche stoon 
Up-on hir heed, they in-to halle hir broghte, 
And ther she was honoured as hir oghte. 

Thus hath this pitous day a blisful ende. 
For every man and womman dooth his might 
This day in murthe and revel to dispende 
Til on the welkne shoon the sterres light. 
For more solempne in every mannes sight 
This feste was, and gretter of costage, 
Than was the revel of hir mariage. 

Ful many a yeer in heigh prosj>eritee 
Liven thise two in concord and in reste, 
And richely his doghter maried he 
Un-to a lord, oon of the worthieste 
Of al Itaille; and than in pees and reste 
His wyves fader in his court he kepeth 
Til that the soule out of his body crepeth. 

Sk.,E, 1100-1134 



414 CHAUCER 911-943 

His sone succedeth in his heritage 

In reste and pees, after his fader day; 

And fortunat was eek in mariage, 

Al putte he not his wyf in greet assay. 

This world is nat so strong, it is no nay, 

As it hath been in olde tymes yore. 

And herkneth what this auctour seith therfore. 

This storie is seyd, nat for that wyves sholde 

Folwen Grisilde as in humilitee, 

For it were importable though they wolde; 

But for that every wight, in his degree, 

Sholde be constant in adversitee 

As was Grisilde: therfore Petrark wryteth 

This storie, which with heigh style he endyteth. 

For sith a womman was so pacient 
Un-to a mortal man, wel more us oghte 
Receyven al in gree that God us sent; 
For greet skil is he preve that he wroghte. 
But he ne tempteth no man that he boghte, 
As seith Seint lame, if ye his pistel rede; 
He preveth folk al day, it is no drede. 

But o word, lording^s, herkneth er I go: — 

It were ful hard to finde now a dayes 

In al a toun Grisildes three or two; 

For if that they were put to swiche assayes, 

The gold of hem hath now so badde alayes 

With bras that, thogh the coyn be fair at ye, 

It wolde rather breste a-two than plye. 

For which heer, for the wyves love of Bathe, 
Whos lyf and al hir secte God mayntene 
In heigh maistrye, and elles were it scathe, 
I wol with lusty herte fresshe and grene 
Seyn yow a song to glade yow, I wene, 

Sk.,E, 1135-1155; 1163-1174 



944-975 THE CAUNTERBURY TALES 415 

And lat us stinte of ernestful matere. 
Herkneth my song, that seith in this manere: — 

Grisilde is deed, and eek hir pacience. 
And bothe atones buried in Itaille; 
For which I crye in open audience 
No wedded man so hardy be tassaille 
His wyves pacience, in hope to finde 
Grisildes, for in certein he shall faille! 

O noble wyves, f ul of heigh prudence, 

Lat noon humilitee your tonge naille, 

Ne lat no clerk have cause or diligence 

To wryte of yow a storie of swich mervaille 

As of Grisildis, pacient and kinde, 

Lest Chichevache yow swelwe in hir entraille! 

Folweth Ekko, that holdeth no silence, 
But evere answereth at the countretaille; 
Beth nat bidaffed for your innocence. 
But sharply tak on yow the governaille. 
Emprinteth wel this lesson in your minde 
For commune profit, sith it may availle. 

Ye archewyves, stondeth at defence, 
Sin ye be stronge as is a greet camaille; 
Ne suffreth nat that men yow doon ojBfence. 
And sclendre wyves, feble as in bataille, 
Beth egre as is a tygre yond in Inde, 
Ay clappeth as a mille, I yow consaille. 

Ne dreed hem nat, do hem no reverence; 

For though thyn housbonde armed be in maille, 

The arwes of thy crabbed eloquence 

Shal perce his brest, and eek his aventaille. 

In lalousye I rede eek thou him binde, 

And thou shalt make him couche as dooth a quaille. 

Sk.,E, 1175-1206 



416 CHAUCER 976-981 

If thou be fair, ther folk ben in presence 

Shew thou thy visage and thyn apparaille; 

If thou be foul, be free of thy dispence, 

To gete thee freendes ay do thy travaille. 

Be ay of chere as light as leef on linde. 

And lat him care, and wepe, and wringe, and waille! 

Here endeth the Clerk of Oxenford his Tale. 

Sk., E, 1207-1212 



VARIANT READINGS 

The following list includes only the important modifications of the Skeat 
text, either where there is no manuscript support for the change, or where 
special problems of grammar, rime, or meter are involved. It has seemed 
hardly worth while to note all the instances of variation from the norm which 
we have established for any particular word; the general principles which have 
been followed in the preparation of the text are discussed in the Introduction. 
The manuscript readings are taken from the Chaucer Society prints, and minor 
differences in spelling will not be quoted. For the sake of ease in comparison 
the line-numbering is based on Skeat. 

The Book of the Duchesse. Manuscripts: B. = Bodley 638; F. = Fair- 
fax 16; T. = Tanner 346. Th. = Thynne's edition. 5. Sleep; Skeat and 
MSS. slepe. 6. Take no keep; MSS. take no kepe; Sk. take kepe. 14. 
Sorwful; .yo 3/55.; 5^. [sory]. 16. ^oote; so MSS.; 5^. wite. 2^. This; 
so B., T., Th.; Sk. thus. 37-8. Yeer, neer; Sk. and MSS. yere, nere. 
46. Bed; Sk. and MSS. bedde. 51. Play; so MSS.; Sk. playen. 52. 
Book; Sk. and MSS. boke. 60. Among; Sk. and MSS. amonge. 67. 
Wol; so F., Th.; Sk. wolde. 77-8. Horn, com; Sk. and MSS. home, come. 
82. Hir thoughte; MSS. her thought; Sk. [he dwelte]. 93. A-vow; 
Sk. ajid MSS. a-vowe. loi. This lady; so MSS.; Sk. [she]. 119. Sleep; 
Sk. and MSS. slepe. 128. Took; Sk. and MSS. toke. 130. Hir to slepe; 
so MSS.; Sk. hir [for] to slepe. 131. Right so; so MSS.; Sk. so. 133. 
Messager; 5"^. awflf M55. messagere. 134. Neer; .yo T.; 5^. nere. 173-4. 
Best, brest; so T., Th.; Sk. beste, breste. 184. Sleep; Sk. and MSS. 
slepe. 185. Up, and axed; so MSS.; Sk. up, axed. 185. Ther; so B.; 
Sk. there. 192. Sleep; Sk. and MSS. slepe. 193. Sleep; Sk. and MSS. 
slepe. 199-200. Feet, heet; Sk. and MSS. fete, hete. 204. Am; so 
MSS.; Sk. nam. 206. Goode; Sk. and MSS. good. 206. That; 
Sk. [look] that. 207. For such a tyde; so MSS.; Sk. [at which] a 
tyde. 213. Alias; so MSS.; Sk. A! 236. To slepe; so MSS.; Sk. [for] 
to slepe. 259-60. Gold, fold; so T.; Sk. golde, folde. 264. Quene 
Alcione; so MSS.; Sk. Alcione. 294. And; so MSS.; Sk. I. 295-6. 
Heep, sleep; MSS. hepe, slepe; Sk. hepe, slepe. 300. Overal; so MSS.; 
Sk. al. 307-8. Stevene, hevene; Sk. and MSS. steven, heven. 328. 
And of; so MSS.; Sk. of. 329. And of King; so MSS.; Sk. and. 
330. And eek of; so MSS. Sk. of. 331. And of; so MSS.; Sk. and. 
334. And; so MSS.; Sk. [of]. 347. Cleer; Sk. and MSS.; clere. 348 
And I; so MSS.; Sk. I. 348. Bothe up; so MSS.; Sk. up. 347-8. Soun. 
doun; Sk. and MSS. soune, doune. 357. Took; so MSS.; Sk. [I] took, 
376. Horn; Sk. ajid MSS. home. 380. And so; so MSS.; Sk. and. 
395. Have; so MSS.; Sk. han. 407-8. Hevene, sevene; Sk. and MSS. 
heven, seven. 437. Rekene^;so MSS.; 5^. rekened. 443. Right wonder; 
so MSS.; Sk. wonder. 447. Ook; Sk. and MSS. oke. 449-50. Heer, 
neer; Sk. and MSS. here, nere. 451. Sitten; Sk. and MSS. sitte. 



4i8 VARIANT READINGS 

485. See; so MSS.; Sk. y-see. 517. Had y-gret; so MSS.; Sk. 
[grette]. 548. Sire; MSS. sir; Sk. [good] sir. 659-60. Heer, chekker; 
B. her, chekere; Sk. here, chekkere. 660. Maat in the; MSS. mate 
in the; Sk. mate in. 745. That may; so MSS.; Sk. may that 
750. Upon a; so T., Th.; Sk. up. 753. Swer; Sk. and MSS. swere. 
765. Yeve; so B., Th.; Sk. yiven. 770. Lord; Sk. and MSS. lorde. 
806. Ther that; so MSS.; Sk. ther. 818. Seyen; B., F., seyn; T. 
sey; Th. sayne; Sk. seyn. 818. Saw; so MSS.; Sk. saw [ther]. 819. 
Of; so MSS.; Sk. of al. 823. Other planete; so MSS.; Sk. planete is. 
825. World; Sk. and MSS. worlde. 844. Bettre; so MSS.; Sk. bet. 
853-4. Everemor, tresor; Sk. and MSS. evermore, tresore. 883. Look; 
Sk. and MSS. loke. 895. But which; so MSS., Sk. which. 911-12. 
Werk, derk; Sk. and MSS. werke, derke. 916. Ne; so MSS.; Sk. [they] ne. 
926. Wei by; so MSS.; Sk. by. 930. Yet through; so MSS.; Sk. through. 
932. Hire; MSS. hir; Sk. hir [ther]. 934. Record; Sk. and MSS. recorde. 
935-6. Bond, hond; Sk. and MSS. bonde, honde. 948. Heet; Sk. and 
MSS. hete. 971. Swere wel; so MSS.; Sk. sweren. 994. And therto; 
so MSS.; Sk. therto. 997. Harm was; so MSS.; Sk. was harm. 998. 
Code; so T.; Sk. good. 1028. In-to; so MSS.; Sk. to. 1029-30. Carre- 
nar, war; Sk. and MSS. Carrenare, ware. 105 1. Her with; so MSS.; 
Sk. with. 1 1 23-4. Oliver, heer; Sk. and Mss. Olivere, here. 11 26. Sire; 
Sk. and MSS. sir. 1126. Tho; so MSS.; Sk. [right] tho. 1 139. That; 
so MSS.; Sk. that [sir]. 1141. Doon; so MSS.; Sk. [y]-doon. 11 50. 
World; Sk. and MSS. worlde. 1295-6. Wer, yeer; B. were, yer; Sk. 
were, yere. 131 1. Word; Sk. and MSS. worde. 13 16. Was ther; so 
MSS.; Sk. ther. 1322. Ther was; so MSS.; Sk. was. 1329. Hond; 
Sk. and MSS. honde. 1333. Skeat excludes "And that anoon"/r(7w the 
quotation. 

The Hous of Fame. B . = Bodley 638; F. = Fairfax 16; P. = Pepys 2006. 
Cx. = Caxton's edition; Th. = Thynne's edition. 8. Why this; so MSS.; 
Sk. this. II. Why these; so MSS.; Sk. these. 20. This is; so MSS.; 
Sk. this. 95. Scorn; Sk. and MSS. scorne. 100. Sith; so MSS.; Sk. sith 
that. 127. Werk; Sk. and MSS. werke. 153. With; so MSS.; Sk. [that] 
with. 491. Saw I me to; so P., Cx., Th.; Sk. saw me [for] to. 611. Done; 
Sk. and MSS. do. 675. And of; so P., Cx., Th.; Sk. of. 757-8. Couth, 
mouth; so B.; P. kowth, mowthe; Sk. couthe, mouthe. 764. Herke; 
so MSS.; Sk. herkne. 827. That same place; B. that som styde; F. sum 
place styde; Th. that some stede; Sk. that [the mansioun]. 924. Moche; 
B. much; F. and Sk. moch. 979-80. Wer, heer; Sk. and MSS. were, here. 
995. "And why"? Sk. includes in the following quotation. 1056. Telle; 
so F., Cx.; Sk. tel. 1135. Bilte; so B., Th.; Sk. bilt. 11 73. Ne; so 
MSS.; Sk.ne[he]. 1177. Crete; so MSS., Sk. grete crsih. 1185. Bothe 
the; so MSS.; Sk. bothe. 1415. And thus; so MSS.; Sk. thus. 1483. 
Poete, Virgyle; so MSS.; Sk. poete, [dan] Virgyle. 1527. Into; so MSS.; 
Sk. in. 1558. Yef; so P.; Sk. give. 1568. Messager; so Cx.; B. messa- 
gere; Sk. messanger. 1618. Wote; so P., Cx., Th.; Sk. wite. 1625. 



VARIANT READINGS 419 

Sclaundre; so B., F., P., Th.; Sk. Sclaunder. 1666. Werkes; so MSS.; Sk. 
werk. 1679-80. Mouth, south; so B., P., Cx.; Sk. mouthe, sou the. 
1685. Mouth hit; P. mouth it; Ca;. trompe it; 5^. mouthe. 1686. Pot-ful 
of; so MSS.; Sk. pot-ful. 1693-4. Bright, might; so MSS.; Sk. brighte, 
mighte. 1701. Werkes; so MSS.; Sk. werk. 1713-4- Wode, gode; 
so F., P.; B., Th., woode, good; Sk. wood, good. 1747-8. Wode, gode; 
so F., P., Cx.; B., Th., woode, good; Sk. wood, good. 1765. Quod she; 
so P., Cx., Th.; Sk. let see. 1775. That; so MSS.; Sk. That fye]. 
1804. Sooth; so MSS.; Sk. [the] sooth. 1805. So; so MSS.; Sk. [al] so. 
1821. List; so F., P., Cx., Th.; B. Hste; Sk. listeth. 1823. Com; so P., 
Cx.; Sk. come. 1824. Can; so B., P., Cx., Th.; Sk. gonne. 1853. Be; 
so B., Cx.; Sk. be [but]. 1902. Dwelled; so B., F., Th.; Sk. dwelte. 
1905-6. Doom, com; Sk. and MSS. dome, come. 1936. Maad, Sk. and 
MSS. made. 1961. Werres, so MSS.; Sk. werre. 1962. Restes; so 
MSS.; Sk. reste. 1963-4. Lyf, stryf; so Cx.; Sk. lyfe, stryve. 1976. 
And; MSS. and of; Sk. of. 1997. Paraunter; so Th.; Sk. paraventure. 
2003-4. Ther-in, gin; so Th.; B. theryn, gynne; Sk. ther-inne, ginne; cf. 
Leg. G. W., 11. 1784-5. 2009. These; so MSS.; Sk. [swiche]. 2021. 
Yaf in; so MSS.; Sk. yaf. 2026. Heer anoon; so B., F.; Sk. anoon-heer. 
2044. Everich; so Cx., Th.; Sk. [ech]. 2053. And thus, and thus; so 
MSS.; Sk. thus, thus. 2075-6. South, mouth; so Cx. B.; Sk. southe, 
mouthe. 2076. Tydinge; so Cx., Th.; Sk. [word]. 2103-4. Wrooth, 
both; so B.; Sk. wrothe, bothe. 2151. Other; so MSS.; Sk. othere. 2153. 
Otheres; Th. others; Sk. othere. 

The Parlement of Foules. Arch. = Arch. Seld. B. 24, Bodleian Library; 
B. = Bodley 638; D. = Digby 181, Bodleian Library; F.= Fairfax 16; 
Ff.=Ff. 1. 6, Cambridge Univ. Library; Gg.—Gg4. 27, Camb. Univ. Library; 
H. = Harl 7333; Hh. = MS. Hh. 4. 12, Camb. Univ. Library; J. = LVII, 
St. Johti's College, Oxford; L. = Longleat 258; Laud = Laud MS. 416, Bod- 
leian Library; P.=Pepys 2006; T. = Tanner 346; Trin. = R. 3. ig, Trinity 
Coll. Cx. — Caxton's edition. 37. Afrike; so B., F., Ff., H., Hh., J., L., 
P., Trin., Cx.; Sk. Afrik. 124. Were; so MSS.; Sk. weren. 142. A— 
stonyed; so Arch., Gg., H., Hh., J., Laud, P., Trin.; Sk. a stounde. 
162-4. Dul, pul; so Arch., D., Gg., J., T., Trin., Cx.; H., Hh., dulle, 
pull; P. dul, pulle; Sk. dulle, pulle. 351. Sparwe; so B., Gg., J., T.; 
Sk. sparow. 353. Swalwe; so Gg., J., T.; Sk. swalow. 462. Take; so 
all but Gg.; Sk. tak. 550. Blood; so Arch., Gg. T., Cx.; Sk. blode. 
653-5-6. Weye, seye, aweye; so Ff., Gg.; D. weye, seye, awey; Sk. wey, 
sey, awey. 

Troilus and Criseyde. Cl. = Campsall MS.; Cp. = Corpus Christi, 
Cambridge, 61; Gg. = Gg. 4. 27, Cambridge Univ. Library; H^. = Harleian 
2280; H'^.= Harleian 3943; H^.= Harleian 1239; J. = L i, St. John's 
College, Cambridge. 

Book I. 285. Mevinge (289, meving); so Cp., H^., //"'., /.; CI. 
meuynge (menyng); Sk. meninge (mening). 312. Word; so. CI., Gg.y 



420 VARIANT READINGS 

^2., /. ; Sk. worde. 569. Sen; so Cp., J., HK, HK; Sk. see. 613. Tolde; 
so Cp., Gg., HK, m., H\, J.; Sk. telle. 721. Telle; so Cp., HK; Sk. tel. 
729. A-wak; Sk. and MSS. awake. 751. Awak; so H^. ; Sk. awake. 
753. Crye; so Cp., Gg., HK, H\ H\, J. ; Sk. cry. 780. Bendiste; so Cp., 
HK, J.; Sk. benedicite. 878. Far; Sk. and MSS. fare. 

Book II. Incipit Liber Secundus moved from before line 50; Incipit Pro- 
hemium etc. omitted. 95. Herken; so CI., Cp., Gg., H^., H^., J.; Sk. 
herknen. 113. Ey; so all hut CL; Sk. A. 133. Helpe; so H^., H^.; J.; 
Sk. help. 137. Wol; so Cp., J.; Sk. wole. 400. Wont; so Cp., H\, m., 
H^., J.; Sk. woned. 405. Which; so CL, Cp., Gg., HK, J.; Sk. whiche. 
955. Chees; so Gg. (sches); Sk. chese. 1519. Ly; so Gg.; Sk. lye. 

Book III. Incipit Liber Tercius moved from before line 50; Incipit Pro- 
hemium etc. omitted. 52-3. Wol (wol); so Cp. (wole), H^., H^. (wole), 
(/. wol); Sk. wole (wole). 144. Y-lyke; so Gg., H^., H^.; 5"^. y-lyke ay. 
148-50. Requeste, feste; so Cp., H^., H^., J.; CL request, feste; Sk. 
request, fest. 360. Aperil; so CL, Cp., HK, m., HK, J.; Sk. Aprille. 
535, Maad; so Gg., J.; Sk. made. 683. Took; so Cp., Gg., H^., J.; Sk. 
toke. 798. Shal; so all but CL; Sk. shalt. 982. Clere; so Cp., HK, H^., 
H^., J.; Sk. cleer. 1141. Candel; so H"^., H^., J.; Sk. candele. 1459. 
Slayn; so Cp., Gg., HK, HK, HK, J.; Sk. shent. 1604. Mot; so CL; Sk. 
mote. 1626. Worste; so CL, Cp., Gg., H^., J.; Sk. worst. 

Book IV. Incipit Quartus Liber moved from before line 2g; Prohemium 
etc. omitted. 108. Sk. puts a period at the end of this line. 337. Hotter; 
so Cp., H^., H^., J.; Sk. hottere. 658. Far; so Gg.; Sk. fare. 730. 
Toke; so Cp., Gg., HK, HK token; Sk. took. 805. Ich; so Cp. HK, HK, J.; 
Sk. I. 947. Al allone; so Cp., H^., J.; Sk. allone. 1132. Woful; so all 
but CL; Sk. wofulle. 1407. Oo; so H^.; Sk. a. 1490. Troians; so MSS. 
except H^ (Troian); Sk. Troianes. 

Book V. 81. Hond; so CL, Gg.; Sk. honde. 205. Issu; Sk. and MSS. 
(Gg. isseu) issue. 277. Wonted; so CL; Sk. woned. 314. Yef; Sk. and 
MSS. yeve. 329. Lat; so Cp., HK, J.; Gg., m., HK let; Sk. lete. 
751-3-4. West, lest, best; so CL, Cp., Gg.; H^., H^., J. west, lyste (leste), 
beste; Sk. weste, leste, beste. 797. Wol; so Cp., H^., J.; H^., will; Sk. 
wole. 1040. Broch; so H^.; Sk. broche. 1161-2. Arte,-carte; so MSS. 
except H^. (art, carte); Sk. art,-cart. 1213. The wode; so CL, Cp., H^.; 
Sk wode. 1586. That she; so MSS.; Sk. she. 1594. Syk; so Cp., Gg., 
HK;Sk. syke. 

Chaucer's Wordes Unto Adam. T. = R. j. 20, Trinity Coll. Library; 
S. = Stowe's edition. 3. Thy longe; so S.; T. thy long; Sk. thy. 

Balade from the Legende. Add.^=Add. 12524, British Museum; 
Add.^ = Add. 9832; Arch. = Arch. Seld. B. 24; B. = Bodley 638; F.= 
Fairfax 16; Gg. = Gg. 4. 27, Camb. Univ. Library; P. = Pepys 2006; T.= 
Tanner 346; Trin. = R. 3. 19, Trinity College. Th. = Thynne's edition. 
250. Leye; Sk. and MSS. ley. 253. Make; so MSS. except Gg.; 
Sk. mak. 



VARIANT READINGS 421 

Trouthe. Add.^=Add. 10340; Add.^ = Add. 22 isg; Arch} = Arch. Seld. 
B. 24; Arch^=Arch. Seld. B. 10; Cl.^Cleopatra D. VII; Cp.=Corpus 
Christi 20 j; E. = Ellesmere; F} — Fairfax 16; F.^ = Fairfax 16 {secofid copy) 
Gg. = Gg. 4. 27; H. = Harleian 7333; Hatton = Hatton MS. 73; L. = Lans- 
downe 699; P.=Phillipps 8299; Trin.^ = Trin. R. 3. 20; Trin.^=Trin. R. 
3. 20 (secoftd copy). Cx.=Caxton's edition, i. Dwell; so Add.^, Arch.^, 
CI., Cp., B., H., L., P.; Sk. dwelle. 8. Tempeste; Sk. and MSS. tem- 
pest. 26. Praye; Sk. and Add.^ pray. 

Lenvoy de Chaucer a Scogan. F. = Fairfax 16; Gg. = Gg. 4. 27, Camb. 
Univ. Library; P.=Pepys 2006. Th. = Thynne's edition. 8. Word; 
so Gg., P.; Sk. worde. 38. Sleep to wake; so Gg.; F. slepe to wake; 
Sk. slepe wak. 45. Streem; so Gg.; Sk. streme. 

Lenvoy de Chaucer a Bukton. F. = Fairfax 16. N. = Julian Notary's 
edition; Th. = Thynne's edition. 10-12-13-15, Evere, nevere, levere, 
dissevere; so F.; Sk. ever, never, lever, dissever. 26. Keep; Sk. and 
MSS. kepe. 

Compleynte of Chaucer to his Empty Purs. Add. = Add. 22139; 

F. = Fairfax 16; Ff. = Ff i. 6, Camb. Univ. Library; H^. = Harleian 2251; 
11"^ = Harleian 7333; P. = Pepys 2006; Ph. = Phillipps MS. 9053. Cx.= 
Caxton's edition, i. Purs; so Ff., P., Cx.; Sk. purse. 

The Caunterbury Tales. Cp. = Corpus Christi; E. =Ellesmore; Gg. = 
Gg. 4. 27, Camb. Univ. Library; Hn. = Hengwrt; L. = Lansdowne 851; 
P.=Petworth: — all taken from the Six-text Print. 

The Prologe. 2. March; so E., Hn.; Sk. Marche. 60. Armee; so all 
except Gg.; Sk. aryve. 120. Seinte; so P.; Sk. seynt. 134. Ther was; 
so MSS.; Sk. was. 164. Chapeleyn; so Gg., P.; Sk. chapeleyne. 196. 
Ah\\;soMSS.;Sk.2i. 232. Mote; so MSS.; Sk. moot. 257-8. Whelp, 
help; so Gg.; Sk. whelpe, helpe. 313. Were; so Cp., Gg.; Sk weren. 
363. And they were clothed alle; so MSS. ; Sk. were with us eek, clothed. 
509. Seynte; so Cp.; Sk. seynt. 697. Seynte; Sk. and MSS. seynt. 
747. Host; so Cp., E., Gg., Hn.; Sk. hoste. 850. That it; so MSS.; 
Sk. it. 

Knightes Tale. 942. Which; so Gg., P.; Sk. whiche. 942. Y-slawe; 
Sk. and MSS. slawe. 105 1-2. Up-rist, list; so P.; Gg. upriste, lyst; Sk. 
upriste, hste. 1076. Squar; Sk. and MSS. square. 1290. Moste; so 
MSS.; Sk. mot. 1493-4. Bright, light; so Cp., Gg.; L., P., bright, sight; 
Sk. brighte, lighte. 1502. Stertling; so E., Gg., Hn.; Sk. sterting (cf. LGW. 
1204). 1512. In; so E., Gg., Hn.; Sk. I. 1669-70. Yeer, heer; so Hn.; 
Sk. yere, here. 1720. Yif; so Gg., Hn., L.; Sk. yeve. 1892. Lette; 
so E.; Sk. letted. 1975-6 Forest beest; so E., Hn.; Gg., L., forest beste; 
Sk. foreste, beste, 2001-2. Bed, bibled; so Gg., Hn.; Sk. bedde, bibledde. 
2060. Peynted; so MSS.; Sk. peynt. 2145. Wreeth; Sk. and MSS. 
wrethe. 2329. Keep; Sk. and MSS. kepe. 2436. In; so E., Gg.^ B.; 
Sk. inne. 2534. Of; so E.; Sk of the. 



42 2 VARIANT READINGS 

Bihoold the murie wordes of the Hoost to the lady Prioresse is taken 
from before B 1625; "to the Shipman and" is omitted from between Hoost 
and to. 

The Prologe of the Prioresses Tale. 165 1. Lilie; so E., Hn., L.; Sk. 
lily. 1674. Month; so Gg., Hn.; Sk. monthe. 

The Prioresses Tale. 1826. The Masse; so E., Gg., Hn.; Sk. masse. 

The Nonne Preestes Tale. 401 1. Stape; so E., Hn.; Sk. stope. 4039. 
Heet; so E., Hn.; Sk. hight. 4343-4. -Moor, stoor; so £., Hn.; Sk. -more, 
store. 

The Prologe of the Pardoners Tale. 351-2. Sheep, keep; so Cp.; Sk. 
shepe, kepe. 364. lew; so E., Hn.; Sk. lewe. 441. Poverte; so E., Gg., 
Hn.; Sk. povert. 448. Moneye; so E., Gg., Hn.; Sk. money. 592. 
Deceit; Cp. disceipt; Gg. disseyd; Sk. deceite. 776. Spak; so MSS.; 
Sk. spake. 

The Prologe of the Wyves Tale of Bathe. 604. Seynte; Sk. and MSS. 
seynt. 

The Clerkes Tale. 59. Playn; so P.; Sk. playne. 64-6. Lond, hond; 
so E., Hn., P.; Sk. londe, honde. Before 939, " Explicit quinta pars. 
Sequitur pars sexta; " Sk., "Pars Sexta." 1168. Coyn; so Gg.; Sk. 
coyne. "Lenvoy de Chaucer" is omitted from before 1177. 



GLOSSARY 



GLOSSARY 



In general only such words are included in this glossary as dififer in 
form or meaning from the corresponding words in modern English, to- 
gether with proper names and a few notes. Etymologies are supplied 
to facilitate the study of the language; but where the sources of the words 
are doubtful, or where special complications arise, this material is omitted. 
If the source is identical in form with the Middle English word, the form 
is not repeated, but is merely indicated by the reference to the language 
from which it comes. 

The following abbreviations are used: 



F., Anglo-French 

S., Anglo-Saxon 

French 

Latin 

L., Low Latin 



A, prep., on, in. 

Abasshed, Abaysed, Abayst, p. 

p., abashed, disconcerted. 

O. F. esbahir. 
Abbay, n., abbey. 0. F. abbaie. 
Abet, n., abetting, instigation. 

O. F. 
Abhominable, adj., abominable, 

hateful. F. abominable. 
Abit, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

indie, see Abyde. 
Able, adj., able, capable, fit, 

suitable. O. F. 
Aboghte, v., pret., see Abye. 
Abood, n., delay. 
Abood, v., pret. sing., see Abyde. 
Aboughte, v., pret., see Abye. 
Aboute, adv., prep., about, 

around. A. S. abutan. 
Aboven, prep., above. A. S. 

abufon. 
Abrayde, v 

abregdan. 
Abregge, v. 

O. F. abregier. 
Abreyde, v., see Abrayde. 
Absolucioun, n., absolution. F. 

absolution. 
Abusioun, n., abuse, deceit, 

scandal. O. F, abusion. 



awake. 



S. 



abridge, shorten. 



M. E., Middle English 
O. F., Old French 
O. Du., Old Dutch 
O. N., Old Norse 



A.S. 



for. 



of fever. 



F. Cf. Sub- 
agreeable to. 



O.F. 



acorder. 
O, 



Abyde, v., abide, wait for. 

abidan. 
Abye, v., pay for, sufifer 

A. S. abycgan. 
Accesse, n., attack 

O. F. aces. 
Accident, n., the outward chang- 
ing attribute (as opposed to 

the substance). 

staunce. 
Accordaunt, adj., 

0. F. acordant 
Accorde, v., agree. 
Accusement, n., accusation. 

F. acusement. 
Accusour, n., accuser, revealer. 

O. F. acuseor. 
Achat, n., buying. 0. F. 
Achatour, n., buyer. 0. F, 

achateor. 
A-chekked, p. p., checked, hin- 
dered. 
Acheve, v., achieve. O. F. 

achever. 
Achitofel, Ahithophel: see II 

Samuel, xm §. 
Acloyeth, v., third pers. sing., 

pres. indie, overburdens. 0. 

F. encloer. 
Acord, n., agreement, harmony. 

O. F. acort, acorde. 
Acordaunt, adj., see Accordaunt. 



425 



426 GLOSSARY 

Acorde, v., see Accorde. A-fyre, on fire. See Fyr. 

Acorse, v., see Acurse. Agame, adv., in play, in jest. 

Acoye, v., quiet, allure, decoy. Agaste, v., terrify. A. S. a 

0. F. acoier. gsestan. 

Acquyte, v., acquit. O. F. Agayn, ady., again. A.<S. ongean. 

aquiter. Agayn, Agaynes, yrey., against, 
Acurse, y., curse. before. A. S» ongean, on- 

Acuse, v., accuse, blame. O. F, geanes. 

acuser. Agilte, y., do wrong, offend. 

Acustomaunce, n., habit. O. F. Agon, p. p., gone away, de- 

accustumance. parted. From Agon. A. S. 

Adamant, Adamaunt, n., ada- agan. 

mant, loadstone. O. F, Agreable, adj., agreeable. F. 

Adawe, v., awake. A-greef, Agref, Agrief, adv., 
Adoun, Adonis. sadly, ill. 

A-doun, adv., down, downwards. Agreve, v., aggrieve, vex. O. F, 

A. S. of — dune. agrever. 

Adrad, p. p., afraid. See Drede. Agroos, v., pret. sing., see Agryse. 

A. S. ofdrsedan. Agryse, v., shudder, feel terror. 
Adriane, Ariadne. A. S. agrisan. 

Adversarie, n., adversary. L. Agu, n., ague. O. F. ague. 

adversarius. Ake, v., ache. A. S. acan. 

Adversitee, n., adversity. F. Al, adj., all. A. S. eall. 

adversite. Al, n., awl. A. S. 

Advertence, n., attention. O. F. Alabastre, n., alabaster. L. 
Advocacyes, n., pleas. O. F. alabaster. 

avocacie. Alambyk, n., alembic: a kind of 
Afer, adv., afar. retort for distilling. 0. F. 

A-fere, on fire. See Fyre. alambic. 

A-fered, Aferd, p. p., afraid. Alaunts, n., plu., large hunting 

From Afere, A. S. afseran. dogs. O. F. alan. 

Affeccioun, n., affection. F* Alayes, n., plu., alloys. O. F, 

affection. alei. 

Affect, n., desire. L. Alceste, Alcestis. 

Afferme, v., affirm. 0. F, Alcipyades, Alcibiades. 

afermer. Alcyone, Halcyone. 

Affiance, n., trust. O. F. afiance. Alday, adv., all day, continually. 

Affray, n., fright, terror. 0. F. Alderbest, adj., adv., superl., 

esfrei. best of all. See AUer. 

Affraye, v., frighten. O. F, es- Alderfaireste, adj., superl., fair- 
freer, est of all. See Aller. 

Affyle, v., smooth, polish. O. F. Alderfirst, adj., adv., superl, first 

afiler. of all. See Aller. 

Afor-yeyn, prep., over against. Alder-lest, adv., superl., least of 
African: Scipio Africanus Major. all. See Aller. 

See Macrobie. Alderlevest, adv., superl., dearest 
Afrighte, v., frighten. A, S, of all. See Aller. 

afyrhtan. Aldermost, adv., superl., most of 
Afrike, Africa. all. See Aller. 

After, adv., afterwards, next. Alder-next, adv., superl, nearest 

A. S. aefter. of all. See AUer. 

After, prep., according to, later Alderwysest, adj., superl, wisest 

than. A. S. aefter. of all. See Aller. 



GLOSSARY 427 

Alestake, n., a stake or pole A-ljrve, alive. See On-lyve. 

projecting from an alehouse Amadrides, n., pZw., hamadryads. 

to support a sign or "bush." Amayed, p. p., dismayed. O. F. 

A. S. ealu — staca. amaier. 

Alete, Alecto: one of the Furies. Amazones, Amazons. 

Aley, 71., alley. O. F. alee. Ambages, n., plu., ambiguous 

Aleyn, Alanus de Insulis or words. L. 

Alain de L'Isle: a Cislercian Ambler, n., an ambling nag. 

monk of the twelfth century, Amende, v., amend, make 

author of De Planctu Naturas amends, improve. F. amender. 

and the Anticlaudianus. Ameved, v., pret. indie.; p. p.; 

Algate, Algates, adv., always, moved, changed. O. F. es- 

in any case, at any rate. O. A'^. movoir. 

alia gotu. Amiddes, adv., in the midst; 

Algezir, Algeciras: a city in prep., in the midst of, A. S. 

Spain. on middan. 

Alighte, v., alight. A. S. alflitan. Amis, adv., amiss. 

Alisaundre, Alexander. Among, adv., all the while. A. S. 

Alisaundre, Alexandria. onmang. 

AUe, adj., dat. sing.; plu.; see Al. Amonges, prep., amongst. 

Allegge, v., adduce, cite. 0. F. Amorwe, on the morrow, in the 

esligier. morning. See Morwe. 

AlleTyadj., gen.plu., see A\. A.S. Amphibologyes, n., plu., am- 

ealra. See Alder — , Alther — . biguities. O. F. amphibologie. 

AUiaunce, n., alliance, espousal. Amphiorax, Amphiaraus. 

O. F. aliance. Amphioun, Amphion. 

Allone, adj., alone. A. S. eal — Amy, n., friend. 0. F. 

an. An, prep., on. A. S. 

Alma redemptoris, first words of Ancle, n., ankle. A. S. ancleow. 

a Latin hymn: Alma redemp- Angre, n., anger, trouble. O. N. 

toris mater. There are several angr. 

hymns with this beginning. Anguisshous, adj., anxious. 

Almena, Alcmena. Angwish, n., anguish. F. an- 

Almes-dede, n., alms-deed. A. goisse. 

S. aelmysse — daed /. Ai3iange, v., hang. A, S. on- 

Along on, prep., owing to. hangian. 

Alose, v., praise, commend. O. Anlas, n., short, two-edged knife 

F. aloser. or dagger. 

Al-outerly, adv., entirely, ab- Anon, ac?y., immediately, straight- 

solutely. way, anon. A. S. on — an. 

Also, adv., conj., also, so, as. Anon-right, adv., immediately, 

A. S. ealswa. straightway. 

Altercacioun, n., altercation, dis- Anoy, n., vexation, trouble. 0. 

pute. F. altercation. F. anoi. 

Altheigh, conj., although. A. S. Anoye, v., annoy, vex, injure. 

eal — J>eah. O. F. anoier. 

Altherfastest, adv., as fast as Answere, n., answer. A. S. 

possible. See Alien andswaru. 

Altherfirst, adj., adv., superl., first Anteclaudian, </ie Anticlaudianus. 

of all. See AUer. See Aleyn. 

Althogh, cory"., see Altheigh. Antem, n., anthem. A. S. 

Alwey, ar?y., always. A.S.eaX — ■ antefn; L. antiphona. 

weg. Anthenor, Antenor: who, accord- 



428 



GLOSSARY 



ing to Guidons Historia, betrayed 

Troy by sending the Palladium 

to Ulysses. 
Antiphoner, n., anthem-book. 
Apaas, adv., at a footpace. See 

Pas. 
Apaire, v., impair, deteriorate. 

O. F. empeirer. 
Apalled, ;>. />., rendered pale or 

feeble. O. F. apalir. 
Aparaile, n., apparel. O. F. 

apareil. 
Aparceyve, v., see Aperceyve. 
Apayed, p. p., pleased, satisfied. 

O. F. apaier. 
Apeire, v., see Apaire. 
Apeise, v., see Apese. 
Aperceyve, v., perceive, discern. 

F. apercevoir. 
Aperili, April. See Aprille. 
Apert, adj., open, manifest; adv., 

openly, manifestly. 0. F. 
Apertenant, adj., belonging to, 

0. F. apartenir. 
Apese, v., appease, pacify. 0. F. 

apaisier. 
Apeyre, v., see Apaire. 
Apotecarie, n., apothecary. 0. F. 
Apoynte, v., appoint. O. F. 

apointier. 
Appalled, p. p., see Apalled. 
Apparaille, n., see Aparaile. 
Apparence, n., appearance, seem- 
ing, apparition. 0. F. apar- 

ence. 
Appelles: a Grecian painter; 

but, according to Gaultier de 

Chatillon (in the sixth book of 

the Alexandreid) , a Jewish 

sculptor who erected the tombs 

of Darius and his wife. 
Appetyt, n., appetite, desire. 

F. appetit. 
AppoUo, Apollo. 
Aprille, April. See Aperill. 
Aproche, v., approach. O. F. 

aprochier. 
Apyked, p. p., adorned. 
Aqueyntaunce, n., acquaintance. 

O. F. acointance. 
Aqueynte, v., acquaint. O. F. 

acointier. 
Aquyte, v., see Acquyte. 



Arace, v., eradicate, tear away. 

A. F. aracer. 
Aragon, Arragon. 
Aray, n., array, dress. O. F. 

arrei. 
Arayed, p. p., arrayed, dressed, 

equipped. O. F. arraier. 
Archeer, n., archer. O. F. 

archier. 
Archewyves, n., plu., arch- 
wives, ruling wives. A. S. 

arce — ^wif. 
Arede, v., explain, interpret. 

A. S. arsedan. 
Arest, n., arrest; the rest for a 

lance. O. F. 
Areste, v., arrest, stop. O. F. 

arester. 
Arette, v., ascribe, impute. O. F. 

areter. 
Arge, Argos. 
Argumente, v., argue. L. ar- 

gumentari. 
Argus: confused with Algus, 

the O. F. name for the Arabian 

mathematician through whose 

book Arabic numerals became 

known in Europe. 
Arguwe, v., argue. F. arguer. 
Ariete, Aries: the Ram, the 

zodiacal sign for the latter part 

of March and the first part of 

April. 
Ariones harpe, Arion's harp: the 

constellation Lyra. 
Arivaile, n., arrival, landing. 

0. F. arrivaille. 
Armee, n., expedition. O. F. 
Arm-greet, adj., as large as an 

arm. A. S. arm — great. 
Armipotente, adj., powerful in 

arms. L. armipotens. 
Armonye, n., harmony. 0. F. 

armonie. 
Armurers, n., plu., armorers, 

F. armurier. 
Arn, v., pres. plu., are. See Ben. 
Aroos, v., pret. sing., see Aryse. 
A-roume, adv., at large. A. S. 

on — rum. 
A-rowe, adv., in a row. See 

Rewe. 
Arrayed, p. p., see Arayed. 



GLOSSARY 429 

Arrerage, n., arrears. F. Assoille, v., absolve, pardon. 
Arrette, v., see Arette. O. F. assoudre. 

Arrivage, n., cunning to shore. F. Assure, v., feel secure, take or 
Ars metrik, n., arithmetic. give confidence. O. F.SLSseuTer. 

Art, n., art, cunning, kind, sort. F. Asswage, v., assuage, mitigate. 
Arte, v., pron., second pers. sing., O. F. asuagier. 

pres. indie, art thou. See Assyse, n., assize, session. 0. F. 

Ben. assise. 

Arte, v., constrain, urge. L. Asterte, v., escape. 

artare. Astoned, p. p., see Astonie. 

Artow, v., pron., second pers. Astonie, v., astonish. O. F. es- 

sing., pres. indie, art thou. toner. 

See Ben. Astored, p. p., stored, provided. 

Artoys, Artois, Astronomye, n., astronomy. F, 
Arwe, n., arrow. A. S. arewe. astronomie. 

Aryse, v., arise, be raised. A. S. Asure, n., azure. F. azur. 

arisan. Asweved, p. p., dazed. A. S. 
As, adv., conj., as, so (in assevera- aswebban. 

tions). A, S, ealswa. Aswowne, adv. from p. p., in a 
Ascaunce, adv., as if to say. swoon. 

M. E. as — 0. F. quanses. Asyde, adv., aside. See Syde. 

Ascencioun of the equinoxial, Asye, Asia. 

ascension of the equinoctial: Atempre, adj., temperate, mod- 

fjfteen degrees of the equinoctial, erate. O. F. 

which make an hour. F. Athalaunte, Atalanta. 

ascension. Athalus, Attalus: the fabled in- 
Ascendent, n., the degree of ventor of chess. 

thee cliptic rising above the Athamaunt, n., see Adamant. 

horizon at a given moment. Athamente, Athamas: Juno 

O.F. caused Athamas, the husband 

Ascry, n., alarm. 0. F. escri. of Ino, to run mad. See Ovid, 

Ashame, v., shame, put to shame. Metam. iv, 416 ff. 

A. S. on— scamian. Athenes, Athenis, Athens. 

Ashe, n., ash-tree. A. S. aesc. Athinke, v., displease. A. S. 
Asonder, adv., asunder. ofJ?yncan. 

Asp, n., aspen tree. A. S. aesp. Atiteris: perhaps Tyrtaeus or 
Aspect, n., (astrological) plane- Tityrus. 

tary relation: the situation of Atlantesdoughtres, the daughters 

two planets ivith respect to each of Atlas: the constellation of 

other. the Pleiades. 

Aspre, adj., sharp, bitter. O. F. At ones, adv., at once. 

Aspye, n., spy, O. F. espie. Atoon, adv., at one. 

Aspye, v., spy, see. O. F. espier. At-rede, v., surpass in counsel. 
Assaut, n., assault. O. F. A. S. aet — radan. 

Assay, n., trial. O. F. asai. At-renne, v., surpass in running. 
Assaye, v., test, prove, try. 0. F. A. S. aet — rinnan. 

asaier. Attamed, p. p., broached. O. F. 
Asse, n., ass. A. S. assa. atamer. 

Assege, n., siege, besieging force. Attempre, adj., see Atempre. 

Assege, v., besiege, lay siege to. Attendaunce, n., attendance. O. 

O. F. asegier. F. atendance. 

Asshen, n., plu., ashes. A, S. Atteyne, v., attain. 0. F, 

aesce. ataindre. 



430 GLOSSARY 

Atthalaunte, Atalanta. Avoy, inter j., fie! O. F. avoi. 

Attheon, Actaeon. Avys, n., advice, consideration, 

Attricioun, n., attrition, grief opinion. 0. F. avis. 

for sin arising from fear of Avyse, v., consider, deliberate. 

punishment. L. attritio. 0. F. aviser. 

Attropos, Atropos. Avysement, n., consideration, 

Atwinne, adv., apart. A. S. counsel. O. F. avisement. 

on — getwinne. Awayt, n., watch, waiting. 0. F. 

Atwixen, prep., between. await. 

Atwo, adv., in twain. A. S. Awey, Aweye, adv., away, astray, 

on — twa. out of the way. A . S. on — weg. 

Atyr, n., attire, dress. O. F. atir. Awhaped, p. p., amazed, con- 

Auctor, n., see Auctour. founded. 

Auctoritee, n., authority. O. F. Ay, adv., aye, ever. O. N. ei. 

autorite. Ayein, Ayeins, adv., prep., see 

Auctour, n., author. O. F. autor. Agayn, Agaynes. 

Audience, n., hearing. O. F. Ayeinward, adv., again, on the 

Auditour, n., auditor. O. F. other hand. 

Auffrike, Africa. Cf. Afrike. Ayel, n., grandfather. F. aieul. 

Auncestre, n., ancestor. 0. F. Ayle, v., ail. A. S. eglan. 

ancestre. 

Aungel, n., angel. O. F, angele. ^ 

Aungellyk, adj., angelic. Babewinnes, n., plu., grotesque 

Austin, Saint Augustine {354- figures. 

430): Bishop of Hippo, from Babiloyne, Babylon. 

whose writings the Augustinian Bacheler, n., a youth, aspirant 

rule was compiled. to knighthood. 0. F. 

Auter, n., altar. 0. F. Bachelrye, n., company of young 

Avale, v., fall, sink. 0. F. avaler. men. O. F. bachelerie. 

Avantage, n., advantage. O. F. Bacoun, n., bacon. O. F. bacon. 

Avaunce, v., advance, promote. Badde, ac?/., bad. ^ . *S. baeddel? 

O. F. avancer. Baggepype, n., bagpipe. 

Avaunt, n., vaunt, boast. 0. F, Baggeth, v., third pers. sing., looks 

Avauntage, n., see Avantage. askant. 

Avaunte, v., boast. O. i^. avanter. Baillif, n., bailiff. 0. F. 

Avauntour, n., boaster. 0. F. Bak, n., back. A. S. baec. 

avanteur. Bake, p. p., baked. From Bake. 

Avayle, v., avail. A. S. bacan. 

Aventaille, n., the moveable Bal, n., ball. 

mouthpiece of a helmet. 0. Balaunce, n., balance, suspense. 

F. avantaille. O. F. balance. 

Aventure, n., chance, fortune. Baldeswelle, Baldeswell in Nor- 

O. F. folk. 

Averrois, Averroes: a Moorish Bale, n., bale, harm. A. S. 

scholar of the twelfth century. bealu, balu. 

Avicen, Avicenna: an Arabian Balled, adj., bald. 

philosopher and physician of Ballenus: see Hermes. 

the eleventh century. Bane, n., bane, destruction, 

Avisioun, n., vision. O. F. death. A. S. bana. 

avision. Baner, n., banner. O. F. baniere. 

Avouterye, n., adultery. O. F. Bar, v., pret. sing., see Bere. 

avouterie. Barbe, n., barb: a part of a 

Avow, n., vow, avowal. woman's head-dress, consisting 



GLOSSARY 431 

0^ a piece of white plaited Bek, n., beak. F. bee. 

linen passed over or under the Bekke, v., nod. {M. E. bekenen, 

chin and reaching midway to A. S. beacnian, bycnian.) 

the waist. 0. F. Bel amy, good friend, fair friend. 

Barbour, n., barber, 0. F. O. F. bel ami. Bele, adj., 

barbeor. fair, beautiful. O. F. bel. 

Bareyn, adj., barren. O. F. Belle, n , bell. A. S. belle. 

brehaing. Bere the belle, be the first. 

Bargaynes, n., plu., bargains. Belmarye, Benamarin: a Moor- 

0. F. bargagne. ish kingdom in Africa. 

Barm, n., bosom, lap. A. S. Belwe, y., bellow, yl . *S. bylgean. 

bearm. Bemes, n., plu., see Beem. 

Baroun, n., baron. 0. F. baron. Ben, v., be. A. S. been. 

Barre, n., bar, stripe across a Bene, n., bean. A. S. bean/. 

girdle. O. F. Benediste, Benedicite: bless ye 

Bataille, n., battle, fight, troop. (the Lord). 

O. F. Benefyce, n., benefice. F. bene- 

Batailled, p. p., embattled. 0. F. fice. 

bateillier. Beneit, Benedict. 

Baude, n., bawd, Benigne, adj., benign, kind, 

Bauderye, n., bawdry. O. F. gracious. 0. F. 

bauderie. Benignitee, n., benignity, good- 

Bawdrik, n., baldric, belt worn ness. 0. F. benignete. 

transversely over one shoulder. Bent, n., grassy slope. A. S. 

0. F. (cf. baldrei). beonet. 

Bawme, n., balm. O. F.ha.usme. Berd, n., beard. Make a berd, 

Bayte, v., bait, feed. 0. N. deceive. A. S. beard. 

beita. Bere, n., bear. A. S. bera. 

Beblotte, v., blot. Bere, 7i., bier. A. S. bser /. 

Bede, v., offer, proffer, command. Bere, n., pillow covering. Cf. 

A. S. beodan. pilwebeer. 

Bede, v., pret. plu.; p. p.; see Bere, v., bear. A. S. beran. 

Bidde. Bere on honde, accuse, make 

Bedes, n., 7)Zw., beads. A.S.hed. (a person) beheve. 

Beem, n., beam. A. S. beam. Berie, v., bury. A. S. byrgan. 

Been, n., plu., bees. A. S. Berking, s., barking. A. S. 

beo. beorcan. 

Beer, v., pret., sing., see Bere. Bern, n., barn. A. S. bem. 

Beest, n., beast. 0. F. beste. Bernard, Bernardus Gordonius: 

Beeth, v., imper. plu., be. See a contemporary of Chaucer 

Ben. and professor of medicine at 

Begge, v., beg. Monfpellier. 

Begger, n., beggar. Berwik, Berwick: a town in 

Beggestere, n., female beggar, Northumberland on the Tweed. 

beggar. — ( A. S. suffi.x) estre. Berye, n., berry. A. S. berie. 

Begyle, v., see Bigyle. Beseye, p. p., see Biseye. 

Beheste, n., promise, command. Bestialitee, n., bestiality, animal 

A. S. behffis /. condition. F. bestialite. 

Behette, v., pret. sing., see Be- Besy, adj., busy. A. S. bysig. 

bote. Besyed, p. p., busied. A. S. 

Behewe, p. p., hewn, carved. bysgian. 

Behote, v., promise. A. S. be- Bet, adj., adv., compar., better. 

hatan. A. S. bet. See Bettre. 



432 



GLOSSARY 



Bete, v., mend, kindle, A. S. 

betan. 
Bete, v., beat. A. S. beatan. 
Bettre, adj., compar., better. 

A. S. betera. See Bet. 
Bever, n., beaver. A. S. beofor. 
Bewrye, v. See Biwreye. 
Beye, v., buy. A. S. bycgan. 
Bibled, p. p., bloodied. 
Biblis, Byblis: changed to a 

fountain on being repulsed in 

love. See Ovid, Metam., ix, 

II. 452. 
Bicched, adj., cursed. Bicched 

bones, dice. 
Bidde, v., pray; {confused with 

Bede) command. A . S. biddan. 
Bidaffed, p. p., befooled. 
Bifalle,y., befall. A.S. befeallan. 
Biforen, prep., before. A, S. 

beforan. 
Biforen, adv., in the front part. 

A. S, beforan. 
Biginne, v., begin. A, S. be- 

ginnan. 
Bigon, p. p., situated, beset, at- 
tired. A. S. bigan. 
Bigyle, v., beguile, deceive. Be — ■ 

O. F, guiler. 
Bihalve, n., behalf. A. S. be— 

healf. 
Biheste, n., see Beheste. 
Bihete, v., promise. See Behote. 
Bihighte, v., pret., see Behote. 
Bihinde, adv., prep., behind. 

A. S. behindan. 
Biholde, v., behold. A. S, be- 

healdan. 
Bihote, v., see Behote. 
Bihovely, adj., helpful, needful. 
Bi-iape, v., fool, trick. 
Biknowe, v., acknowledge, con- 
fess. A. S. becnawan. 
Bilde, v., build. A. S. byldan. 
Bilder, n. as adj., builder. 
Bile, n., bill. A. S. bile. 
Bille, n., bill, petition. A. F. 
Biloved, p. p., beloved. A. S. 

be — lufian. 
Binne, n., bin, hutch, chest. 

A. S. binn /. 
Biquethe, v., bequeath. A, S. 

becweSan. 



Bireyned, p. p., rained upon. 

A. S. be — rignan. 
Bireve, v., bereave, rob. A. S, 

bereafian. 
Birthe, n., birth, 
Biseche, v., beseech. A. S. be — ■ 

secan. 
Bisege, v., besiege. 
Biseke, v., see Biseche. 
Bisette, v., bestow, employ. A. 

S. besettan. 
Biseye, p. p., beseen, decked, 

clad, A. S. beseon. Goodly 

beseyn, fair to see. Wei 

beseyn, good looking. 
Bishet, p. p., shut up. A. S, 

be — scyttan. 
Bisily, adv., busily. 
Bisinesse, n., business, activity. 
Bismotered, p. p., besmutted, 

dirtied. 
Bisoghte, Bisoughte, v., pret., 

see Biseche. 
Bisy, adj., see Besy. 
Bisyde, Bisydes, prep., beside. 

See Syde. 
Bit, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

indie, see Bede, Bidde. 
Bitake, v., commend, entrust. 

A. S. be — tacan. 
Bithinke, v., bethink, imagine, 

consider. A, S. bejjencan. 
Bitraise, v., betray. Be — 0. F, 

trair. 
Bitrende, v., encircle. Bitrent, 

third pers., sing., pres. indie, 

encircles. A. S. be — trendan. 
Bitwixen, prep., between. 
Bityde, v., happen. A. S. be — 

tidan. 
Biwaile, v., bewail, 
Biwared, p. p., expended, laid 

out (as on wares). 
Biwopen, p. p., bathed in tears. 

From Biwepe. A. S. bewepan. 
Biwreye, v., reveal. A. S. be — ■ 

wregan. 
Blak, adj., black. A. S. blaec. 
Blakebaried, a, a-blackberrying. 
Blankmanger, n., minced capon 

with rice, milk, sugar, and 

almonds : named fro7n its white 

color. O. F. blanc-manger. 



GLOSSARY 433 

Blase, n., blaze. A. S. blaese. and among the French irans- 

Blase, v., blow. O. N. blasa. lations was one (which Chaucer 

Blasphemour, ?z,, blasphemer. used) by Jean de Meun. 

Blaste, v., blow. Boght, p. p.; Boghte, v., pret.; 
Blaunche fevere, fever that see Bye. 

turns men white: said jocosely Boille, v., boil. 0. F. boillir 

because love makes its viclims Boistes, n., plu., boxes. 0. F. 

pale. See Fevere. boiste. 

Blede, v., bleed. A. S. bledan. Boistously, adv., loudly, boister- 
Blende, v., blind. Blent, third ously. 

pers. sing., pres. indie, blinds Bokeler, n., buckler: a small 

A. S. blendan. round shield usually carried 

Bleve, v., remain. A. S, be- by a handle at the back. 0. F. 

Isefan. bocler. 

Blew, adj., blue. F. bleu. Boket, n., bucket. 

Bleynte,y., pref. blenched, turned Bolde, v., grow bold. A. S, 

aside. From Blenche. A. S. bealdian. 

blencan. Bole, Ji., bull. Bole, Taurus: 
Blis, n., see Blisse. the zodiacal sign. 

Blisful, adj., happy, blessed. Boloigne, Boulogne or Bologna. 

Blisse, n., bliss, felicity. A. S. Bonde, p. p., bound. From 

blis/. Binde. A. S. bindan. 

Blisse, v., bless. A. S. bletsian. Bonde, n., bondman. A. S. 
Bio, adj., smoke-colored. 0. N, bonda. 

blar. Bone, n., boon, prayer. 0. N. 
Blody,af/;'., bloody. ^I.aS^. blodig. bon. 

Blosmy, adj., blossoming, full of Boon, n., bone. A. S. ban. 

blossoms. Boor, n., boar. A. S. bar. 

Blythe, adj., blithe, glad. A. S. Boost, n., boast. A. F. best. 

blij?e. Boot, n., boat. A. S. bat. 

Bljrve, adv., quickly, soon. Boras, n., borax. F. borras. 

Bobance, n., presumption, boast. Bord, n., table, board. A. S. 

O. F. Had the bord bigonne, had 

Bocher, 7i., butcher. 0, F, led the feast, sat at the head 

bochier. of the table. 

Bode, n., foreboding, omen. Bore, n., bore, hole. O. N. bora. 

A. S. bod. Bore, p. p., born. See Bere. 

Boece, Boethius: an early scho- Borne, v., burnish, smooth. O.F, 

lastic, c. 480-524 A. D.y Ro- bumir. See Burne. 

man consul, author of iheo- Borowe, Borwe, n., pledge. A, 

logical treatises, treatises on S. borh. 

learning and music, and of Bote, n., help, remedy, good. 

the famous De Consolatione A. S. bot /. 

Philosophia3, put to death on Botelees, adj., without remedy. 

a false charge of treason in the Boteler, n., butler. 0. F. bou- 

reign of Theodoric the Goth. teillier. 

The De Consolatione ivas one Boterflye, n., butterfly. A. S, 

of the most popular books of the buter-flege. 

Middle Ages and even of later Bttes, n., plu., boots. 0. F. 

times; it ivas translated into bote. 

English by Chaucer and by Bothe, adj., pron., both. 0. N, 

several others, including King bajjir. 

Alfred and Queen Elizabeth, Bother, adj., pron., gen. plu.y 



434 



GLOSSARY 



of both. 0. N. ha.])ii. Your 
bother, of you both. 

Botme, n., bottom. A. S. botm. 

Botmelees, adj., bottomless, hol- 
low, unreal. 

Bouk, n., body, trunk. A. S. 
buc. 

Boundes, n., plu., bounds. 0. F. 
bonde. 

Bountee, n., goodness, kindness. 
O. F. bonte. 

Bountevous, adj., bounteous. 

Bour, n., bed-chamber, bower. 
A. S. bur. 

Bourde, v., jest. 0. F. bourder. 

Bowe, n., bow. A. S. boga. 

Bowes, n., plu., boughs. A. S. 
boh. 

Bracer, n., guard for the arm. 
0. F. brasseure. 

Bradwardyn, Bradwardme: proc- 
tor at O.vford in 1325, later 
Chancellor, Archbishop of Can- 
terbury just before his death 
in 1349, author of a theological 
treatise De Causa Dei. 

Brak, v., pret. sing., see Breke. 

Braste, v., pret., see Breste. 

Braun, n., brawn, muscle. 0. F. 
braon. 

Braunche, n., branch. 0. F. 
branche. 

Brayde, v., see Breyde. 

Brede, n., breadth. A.S. breedu. 

Brede, n., roast. A. S. brsede. 

Brede, v., breed. A. S. bredan. 

Breed, n., bread. A. S. bread. 

Breem, n., bream: a fish. 0. F. 
bresme. 

Breeth, n., breath. A. S. br£e}>. 

Breke, v., break. A. S. brecan. 

Brekers, n., plu., breakers. 

Brekke, n., break, defect. 

Breme, adj., fierce; adv., fiercely. 

Bren, n., bran. O. F. 

Brenne, v., burn. 0. N. brenna. 

Brenningly, adv., burningly, ar- 
dently. 

Brere, n., brier, underwood. 
A. S. brer. 

Brest, n., breast. A. S. breost. 

Brest-boon, n., breast-bone. A, 
S. breost— ban. 



Breste, v., burst. A. S. berstan. 

Brest-plat, n., breast-plate. A. 
S. breost— 0. F. plate. 

Bret, Briton. 

Bretful, adj., brimful. A. S. 
brerd — fill. 

Bretherhed, n., brotherhood, re- 
ligious order. 

Breyde, v., start, awake, draw. 
A. S. bregdan. 

Brid, n., bird. A. S. bridd. 

Brinne, v., see Brenne. 

Britayne, Brittany. 

Brode, adv., broadly. 

Broght, p. p., brought. From 
Bringe. A. S. bringan. 

Bromes, n., plu., brooms, the 
broom {bushes so-called) . A. 
S. brom. 

Brond, n., brand, torch. A. S. 

Brooch, n., brooch. 0. F. broche. 

Brood, adj., broad, thick, large. 
A. S. brad. 

Broste, v., pret.; Brosten, p. p., 
burst. See Breste. 

Brotel, adj., brittle. 

Brotelnesse, n., frailty. 

Brouke, v., enjoy, use. A. S. 
brucan. 

Broun, adj., brown. A. S. brun. 

Browe, n., brow, eyebrow. A. S. 
bru /. 

Broyded, p. p., braided. 

A. S. bregdan. See Breyde. 

Brydel, n., bridle. A. S. bridel. 

Buk, n., buck. A. S. bucc. 

Bukkes, n., pi., bucks. A. S. 
bucca. 

Bukton: either Peter de Buketon, 
the King^s escheator for the 
county of York in 139^ {Tyr- 
whitt) , or Robert Bukton, esquire 
to the Queen in 1391, 1393, and 
1394 {Tatlock). See Expedi- 
tions by Henry Earl of Derby, 
Camden soc, 1894, p. 300. 

Bulde, v., see Bilde. 

BuUe, n., papal bull. L. bulla. 

Bulte, v., bolt, sift. O. F. buleter. 

Burdeux, Bourdeaux. 

Burdoun, n., burden of a song, 
bass accompaniment. O. F, 
bourdon. 



GLOSSARY 435 

Burgeys, n., burgess, citizen. Caliopee, Calliope: the muse of 

0. F. burgeis. epic poetry. 

Burned, p. p., burnished, pol- Calipsa, Calypso. 

ished. O. F. burnir. See Calistopee, Calixte, Callisto. 

Borne. Calle, n., caul: net used to con- 

Bumel, Bninellus: the ass thus fine women's hair. Maken an 

nicknamed in the Speculum howve above a calle, make a 

Stultorum of Nigellus Wire- hood above a caul: to make 

ker (fl. the latter part of the a fool of. 

twelfth century). One Gundulf, Cam, v., pret. sing., came. From 

according to the story, broke the Come. A. S. cuman. 

leg of a cock, who took his Camaille, n., camel. O. F. camel. 

revenge by neglecting to crow Can, v., pres. indie, see Conne. 

and waken Gundulf in time to Canace: daughter of jEoIus, who 

be consecrated for his father's was beloved by Poseidon, and 

benefice. who committed incest with her 

Burthe, n., birth. brother. 

Buskes, n., plu., bushes. Candace: queen of India, beloved 

But-if, conj., unless. of Alexander, according to me- 

Buxom, adj., yielding, obedient. dieval romance. 

Buxomly, adv., obediently. Candel, n., candle. A. S. 

By, adv., prep., as regards, with Canel-boon, n., collar-bone. 0. 

respect to, besides. A. S. bi. F. canel — A. S. ban. 

Bycause, adv., conj., because. Cankedort, n., state of suspense. 

Be — F. cause. Canon: the title of a book by 

Byde, v., wait. A. S. bidan. Avicenna. 

Bye, v., buy. A. S. bycgan. Cantel, n., cantle, portion. O. F. 

See Beye. Cape, v., gape. 

By-iape, v., see Bi-iape. Capoun, n., capon. ^. «S. capun. 

Byte, v., bite, cut. A. S. Cappe, m., cap. A. S. caeppe. 

bitan. Sette hir aller cappe, de- 

Bywreye, v., see Biwreye. ceived them all, made fools of 

them all. 

C Carejme, n., corpse, carrion. 

Caas, n., plu., cases of law. See O. F. caroigne. 

Cas. Carle, v., carry. O. F. carier. 

Cacche, v., catch, lay hold of. Carl, n., fellow, rustic. 0. N. 

O. F. cachier. karl; A. S. ceorl. 

Cadence, n., rhythm, (Skeat Carole, v., dance around singing. 

suggests) stanzaic form. LL. 0. F. caroler. 

cadentia. Carpe, v., talk, chatter. 

Cadme, Cadmus. Carrenar: perhaps the Gulf of 

Caitif, adj., captive, wretched, Camaro or Quamaro in the 

miserable. Adriatic (Skeat); or the Kara 

Caitif, n., captive, wretch. O. F. Nor — black lake — which is near 

Cake, n., round and rather flat the Lop Nor — sand lake or 

loaf of bread. Desert of Gobi, and therefore 

Cakelinge, n., cackhng. the "dry sea" — in Asia (Lowes). 

Calculinge, s., calculation. F. Cartage, Carthage. 

calculer. Carte, n., cart, chariot. A. S. 

CaXendes, n., plu. »See Kalendes. craet. 

Calidoine, Calydon: ancient city Cas, n., chance, accident, cir- 

of Greece. cumstance. O. F, 



436 GLOSSARY 

Cas, n., quiver (for arrows). Chapitre, n., chapter. F. 

O. F. casse. Chapman, n., trader, merchant. 
Cast, n., occasion, contrivance, A. S. ceapman. 

plan, 0. N. kast. Char, n., chariot, 0. F. 

Caste, v., throw, conjecture, Charge, n,, load, burden, im- 

con.sider, plan, contrive. 0, N. portance, responsibility. 0. F. 

kasta. Charitable, adj., loving, kind, F. 

Castel, n,, castle. A. S. The Charitee, n., charity, love. 0. 

"longe castel with walles F. carite. 

whyte" puns on the names Charme, n., charm. F. 

Lancaster and Blanche. Charmeresses, n., plu., workers 
Castel-yate, n., castle-gate. A. with charms, 

S. castel — geat. Chast, adj., chaste. F. chaste. 

Casuel, adj., casual, F. Chasteyn, 7i., chestnut. O. F. 
Casuelly, adv., casually. chastaigne. 

Cataloigne, Catalonia in southern Chaunce, n., chance, O. F. 

France. cheance. 

Catapuce, n., caper spurge: the Chaunge, v., change, 0. F. 

seeds are purgative. changier. 

Catel, n., property, wealth, O. F. Chaungeable, adj., changeable, 
Catoun, Dionysius Cato: re- F. changeable. 

puled author of the T>\si\c}i2i, dQ Chaunterie, n., chantry: an en- 

Moribus assigned to the third doivment for a priest to sing 

or fourth century A. D. and masses for the soul of the giver 

famous throughout the Middle of the endowment, or of some 

Ages. one designated by him. 0. F. 

Caughte, v., pret., caught, con- chanterie. 

ceived. See Cacche. Cheef, adj., chief. 0. F. chief. 

Caunterbury, Canterbury. Chek, n., check (at chess), 0. F, 
Causeles, adj., without cause, eschec. 

Ceint, n., cincture, girdle. 0. F, Cheke, n., cheek, cheek-bone. 
Celle, n., cell. 0. F, A. S. ceace. 

Centaure, n., centaury: a me- Chekker, n., chess-board. 0. F, 

dicinal herb. eschequier. 

Cercle, n., circle. F. Chekmat, n., checkmate. F, 
Cercle, v., encircle. F, cercler. echec et mat. 

Cerial, adj., cerrial: belonging Chep, n., market, price, A. S. 

to a species of oak. ceap. As good chep, as cheaply. 

Certes, adv., certainly. F. Chepe, dat., time of cheapness. 

Certeyn, adj., certain; adv., cer- Chepe, Cheapside in London. 

tainly. F. certain. Chere, n., face, countenance, 
Ceruce, n., white lead: used as cheer. O. F. chiere. 

the basis for a cosmetic. Cherisse, v., see Cheryce. 

Cesse, v., cease. F. cesser. Cherl, n., churl, boor, fellow. 
Chace, v., chase, hunt, pursue. A. S. ceorl. 

0. F. chacier. Cherubinnes, n., gen., cherub's. 

Chamberere, n., chambermaid, Cheryce, v., cherish. O. F. 

maidservant. cherir. 

Chamberleyn, n., chamberlain. Ches, n., chess. O. F. esches. 

O. F. chamberlenc. Chesse, dat. 

Chambre, n., chamber. 0. F. Chese, v., choose. A. S. ceosan. 

Champioun, n., champion. F. Cheste, n., chest. A. S. cest /. 

champion. Chevalrye, n., see Chivalrye. 



GLOSSARY 437 

Chevisaunce, n., borrowing Citherea, of the island of Cythe- 

money, dealing for profit. ra: Venus. 

O. F. chevisance. Citheroun, Cithaeron. 

Cheyne, n., chain. O. F. chaene. Citole, n., stringed musical in- 

Chichevache: the lean cow that strument. O. F. 

fed on patient wives. Cladde, v., pret., clad. From 

Chide, v., chide, rebuke, scold. Clothe. A. S. claSian. See 

yl. .S'. cidan. See Chyde. Cled. 

Chiknes, n., plu., chickens. A. Clamben, y., prei. pZw., see Clomb. 

S. cicen. Clamour, n., clamor, outcry. 

Child, n., child. A, S. cild. O. F. 

Chimeneye, n., fireplace, F. Clappe, n., thunderclap. 

cheminee. Clappe, v., clap, chatter, prattle, 

Chirche, n., church. A. S. cirice. A. S. clappan. 

Chirche-dore, n., church-door. Clapping, s., chatter, idle talk. 

A. S. cirice — duru. A. S. clappan. 

Chirking, n., creaking, grating, Clarioninge, s., the music of the 

shriek. clarion. 

Chiron, Chiron the centaur: tutor Clarioun, n., clarion, trumpet. 

of Achilles. O. F. clarion. 

Chiteringe, s., chattering, chirp- Clarree, n., clarified wine, mixed 

ing. with honey and spices and 

Chivachye, n., military expedi- strained until clear. O.F.claie, 

tion. 0. F. chevauchie. Clatere, v., clatter. 

Chivalrye, n., chivalry, knight- Claudian, Claudius Claudianus: 

hood, valor, knightly deeds. author of Dc Raptu Proser- 

0. F. chevalerie. pinae (c. 400 A. D.) 

Chogh, n., chough, crow. Clause, n,, clause, sentence, 

Chois, n., choice. O. F. agreement, stipulation. O. F. 

Choppe, v., strike downwards. Clawes, n., plu., claws. A, S. 

knock. clawu. 

Choys, n., see Chois. Clayme, v., claim. O. F. clamer. 

Chyde, v., chide, complain, A. Cled, p. p., clad. Fro77i Clothe. 

S. cidan. See Chide. A. S. claSian. See Cladde. 

Cimerie, Cimmerii: a mythical Cledde, ?'., pret., clad. From 

people described by Homer as Clothe. A. S. cla'Sian. See 

dwelling in a remote realm of Cled. 

mist and gloom. Cleer, adj., clear, fine, bright. 

Cink, cinqve, five. 0. F. cine. O. F. cler. 

Cipioun, Scipio Africanus the Clefte, v., pret., see Cleve. 

younger: see Macrobie. Clene, adj., clean, pure; adv., 

Cipres, n., cjTiress. (). F. entirely, wholly. A. S. clabne. 

Cipryde, native of Cyprus: Clennesse, n., purity. A. S, 

Venus. claenness /. 

Circes, Circe. Cleo, Clio: the muse of history. 

Circumscryve, v., bound, en- Cleopatre, Cleopatra. 

close. F. circonscrire. Clepe, v., call, name. A. S, 

Circumstaunces, n., plu., cir- clipian, cleopian. 

cumstances. 0. F. circum- Clere, adv., clearly. 

stance. Clere, v., grow clear, grow bright. 

Citee, n., citj'. O. F. cite. Clerer, adj., compar., see Cleer. 

Citezein, n., citizen. O. F. ci- Clergeon, n., chorister, choir-boy. 

teain. 0. F. 



438 



GLOSSARY 



Clerk, n., clerk, student, scholar. 

A. S. clerc; 0. F. clerc. 
Cleve, v., adhere to, cling to. 

A. S. cleofian. 
Cleve, y., cleave, cut, split. 

A. S. cleofan. 
Clew, v., pret. sing., rubbed, 

clawed. From Clawe. A. S, 

clawan. 
Clippe, v., embrace. A. S. clyp- 

pan. 
Clippe, v., cut, clip. 0. N. klippa. 
Cloisterer, n., resident in a 

cloister. 
Cloisterlees, adj., cloisterless, 

outside of a cloister, 
Cloistre, n., cloister, O. F. 
Cloke, n., cloak. O. F. cloche. 
Clokke, n., clock. O. F. cloque. 
Clomb, v., pret. sing.; Clomben, 

v., pret. plu.; Clomben, p. p.) 

climbed. From Climbe. A. 

S. climban. 
Cloos, adj., close, hidden, secret; 

adv., secretly, 0. F. clos. 
Clooth-making, s., making of 

cloth. 
Closet, n,, small room, O. F. 
Clothered, p. p., clotted, coagu- 
lated, 
Cloude, n., cloud, A. S. clud. 
Clout, n., piece of cloth. A. S. 

clut. 
Clowes, n., plu., see Clawes. 
Cod, n., bag, belly, A. S. codd. 
Cofre, n., coffer, chest, coffin. 

O. F. 
Coghe, v., cough, 
Cok, n., cock, A. S. coc. 
Cokes, n., plu., cooks. A. S, 

coc. 
Cokewold, n., cuckold. O. F, 

coucuol, cucuaut. 
Cokkow, n., cuckoo. 
Col, n., coal. A. S. col. 
Cold, adj., cold, baneful. A, S, 

ceald. 
Colde, v., grow cold. A, S, 

cealdian. 
Coler, n., collar. 0. F. colier. 
Colera, n., choler: one of the four 

^ ^humors" of the body according 

to the old physiology. The 



other three were blood, phlegm, 
and black bile or melancholy. 
The relative proportions of these 
fluids in the body were supposed 
to determine a person^s health 
and disposition. L. cholera. 

Colere, n., choler. F, colere. 
See Colera. 

Colerik, arfy,, choleric. L.choleri- 
cus. See Colera. 

Col-fox, n., coal fox, black fox. 
Col— vl. S. fox. 

CoUacion, n,, comparison, con- 
ference. 0. F» 

Coloigne, Cologne. 

Colour, n., color, rhetorical or- 
nament. 0. F, 

Colpons, n., plu., shreds, 
bundles. 

Com, v., pret. sing., came. From 
Come. A. S. cimian. 

Comaunde, v., command. 0. F, 
comander. 

Comaundement, n., command- 
ment, command, order. 0. F. 
comandement. 

Comende, v., commend. L. com- 
mendare. 

Comlily, adv., in a comely way. 

Comlinesse, n,, comeliness. 

Commaundement, n., see Com- 
aundement. 

Commissioun, n., commission. 
F. 

Commune, adj., general, com- 
mon, 0. F. comun. 

Commune, n., commons. 

Compaignable, adj., companion- 
able, O. F. 

Compaignye, Companye, n., com- 
pany, O. F. compaignie. 

Comparisoun, n., comparison. 
F. comparaison. 

Compas, n., compass, circuit, 
plan, contriving, 0. F. 

Compasse, v., contrive. F. com- 
passer. 

Compassioun, n., compassion. 
F. compassion. 

Compeer, n., gossip, close friend. 
O. F. compair. 

Complexioun, n., complexion, 
temperament of the body (see 



GLOSSARY 439 

Colera), make-ui), character- Constance, n., constancy. F. 

istics. O. /'^ complexion. Constantyn, Constantius Afer: an 

Compleyne, v., complain. F. eleventh century monk, one of 

complaindre. the founders of the school of 

Compleynte, n., complaint, la- Salerno. 

ment. O. F. complainte. Constellacioun, n., constellation, 

Composicioun, n., agreement. cluster of stars. O. F. con- 

0. F. stellacion. 

Compoune, v., compose, form. Constreyne, v., constrain, re- 

L. componere. strain, comprise. 0. F. con- 

Comprende, v., comprehend. F. streindre. 

comprendre. Constreynte, n., constraint, dis- 

Comune, adj., n., see Commune. tress. 0. F. constrainte. 

Comunly, adv., commonly. Contek, n., strife, contest. O. F, 

Conceit, n., conception, thought, contec. 

notion. Contemplacioun, n., contempla- 

Conclusioun, n., decision, judg- tion. F. contemplation. 

ment, result, end. F. conclu- Contenaunce, n., appearance, 

sion. demeanour. 0. F. contenance. 

Concubyn, n., concubine. Contene, v., contain. F. con- 

Condicioun, n., condition, state. tenir. 

O. F. condicion. Continuacioun, n., continuance. 

Conferme, v., confirm, decree. F. continuation. 

0. F. confermer. Contraire, adj., contrary, ad- 

Confessioun, n., confession. F. verse. 0. F. 

confession. Contrarie, n., contrary, opponent. 

Confiture, n., composition. O. F. contraire, 

Confort, n., comfort, pleasure. Contrarie, v., oppose, go con- 

O. F. trary to. 0. F. contrarier, 

Conforte, v., comfort, strengthen, Contree, n., country, fatherland. 

support. O. F. conforter. 0. F. 

Confus, adj., confused, con- Contrefete, v., see Countrefete. 

founded. Convers, n., opposite, that which 

Congeled, j). p., congealed, is turned about. In convers 

frozen. O. F. congeler. leting, leaving behind, on the 

Congregacioun, n., congrega- other side. 

tion, assemblage. F. congre- Conveye, v., convey, introduce. 

gation. O. F. conveier. 

Conne, v., know, be able, can. Convoye, v., see Conveye. 

A. S. cunnan. Conne a thank, Cop, n., top, summit. A. S. cop. 

owe thanks. Cope, n., cope, cloak. L. L. 

Conning, n., cunning, skill, capa. 

knowledge. Coper, n., copper. 

Conningly, adv., skillfully. Coppe, n., cup. A. S. cuppe. 

Conquerour, n., conqueror. O. Corage, n., heart, spirit, dis- 

F. conquereor. position. O. F. 

Conscience, n., feeling, pity, Corageous, adj., bold, cour- 

sympathy. O. F. ageous. 0. F. corajus. 

ConseU, n., secret counsel, secret, Corbet, n., corbel: a projection 

counsellor. 0. F. from the face of a wall to aj^ord 

Conservatif, adj., preserving. F. support to a structure above. 

Conserve, v., preserve. 0. F. 0. F. 

conserver. Corde, n., cord. 0. F, 



440 GLOSSARY 

Corde, v., accord, agree. See Countour, n., counting-board. 

Accorde. O. F. contouer. . 

Cordial, n., cordial, something Countrefete, v., counterfeit, imi- 

that cheers the heart. tate. 0. F. contrefaire {jp. p., 

Corecte, v., correct. contrefait). 

Cormeraunt, n., cormorant. O. Countrepeise, v., counterpoise, 

F. cormorant. render equivalent. O. F. con- 

Com, n., corn, grain. A, S. trepeser. 

Comemuse, n., bagpipe. Countretaille, n., correspondence. 

Corny, adj., strong of the corn counter-stroke. O. F. contre — 

or malt. taille. At the countretaille, in 

Corone, Coroune, n., crown, correspondence ipj sound), in 

garland. O. F. corone. reply. 

Corps, n., corpse. O. F. See Cours, n., course. 0. F. 

Cors. Courtepy, n., short coat or cloak 

Corrumpable, adj., corruptible. of coarse cloth, 

0. F. corrompable. Couthe, v., pret., see Conne. 

Comipcioun, n., destroyer, cor- Coveityse, n., covetousness. O. 

ruption. O. F. corruption. F. coveitise. 

Cors, n., body, corpse. 0. F. Covenable, adj., proper, fitting. 

See Corps. 0. F. 

Corse, v., curse. A. S. cursian. Covenaunt, n., covenant, agree- 

Corseynt, n., saint {literally holy ment. O. F. covenant. 

body), shrine. O. F. cors Covent, n., convent, conventual 

saint. body. O. F. 

Corven, p. p., see Kerve. Coverchief, n., kerchief worn on 

Cosin, Cosyn, n., cousin. As the head. 0. F. cuevrechief. 

adj., akin to, suitable to. Covercle, n., cover, lid. 0. F. 

O. F. cosin. Covyne, n., deceitfulness, plot. 

Costage, n., cost, expense. 0. F. 0. F. covine. 

Coste, n., coast. O. F. Cowardye, n., cowardice. O. F. 

Cote, n., cot, hut; so dungeon. couardie. 

A. S. cot /. Cowardyse, n., cowardice. F, 

Cote, n., coat, jacket. O. F. couardise. 

Cote-armure, n., coat showing Coy, adj., quiet. 0. F. coi. 

the heraldic arms, coat of arms. Coyn, n., coin. O. F. coin. 

O. F. cote a armure. Cracching, s., scratching. 

Couche, V. lay down, place, set. Cradel, n., cradle. A. S. 

0. F. couchier. Craft, n., cunning, trade, secret. 

Coude, v., pref., see Conne. A. S. craeft. 

Counseil, Counseyl, n., see Con- Craftily, adv., artfully, skillfully. 

sell. Crafty, adj., skillful, clever. A. S. 

Counseyle, v., counsel. F. con- craeftig. 

seiller. Crampe, n., cramp. F. 

Counte, v., account. 0. F. Cran, n., crane. A. S. cran. 

conter. Crave, v., beg, ask. A. S. crafian. 

Countenance, n., see Conte- Creat, p. p., created. L. creatus. 

naunce. Creatour, n., creator. L. creator. 

Countesse, n., countess. F, Crede, n., creed, belief. A. S. 

comtesse. creda. 

Countour, n., arithmetician; Creep, v., pret. sing., see Crepe. 

{perhaps) auditor. 0. F. con- Crepe, v., creep. A. S. creopan. 

teor. Crepul, n., cripple. A. S. crypel. 



GLOSSARY 441 

Cresus, Cr<Tsus. Cursednesse, n., cursedness, 

Crevace, n., crevice, crack. O. F. wickedness. 

Crips, adj., crisp, curly. A. S. Curteis, adj., courteous. 0. F. 

crisp. Curteisye, n., courtesy. 0. F. 

Crisippus, Chrysippus: the name curteisie. 

of aGrcek philosopher mentioned Curteyn, Curtin, n., curtain. 

in Jerome's treatise against O. F. curtine. 

Jovinian. Cut, n., lot. 

Crist, Christ. Cypris, Venus. 
Cristal, adj., crystal. F. 

Cristemasse, Christmas. ^ 

Cristofre, Saint Christopher, {on Daggere, n., dagger. 0. F, 

a brooch). dague. 

Croce, n., crutch, staff. O. F. Dale, n., dale, valley. A. S. dael. 

Croked, adj., crooked. Daliaunce, n., dalliance, gossip, 

Crokke, n., crock, earthenware playful demeanour. 

pot. A. S. crocca. Damascien, Johannes Damas- 

Cronique, n., chronicle. 0. F. cenus: an Arabian physician, 

Crop, n., top, sprout, new twig. probably of the ninth century. 

A. S. crop. Damoysele, n., damsel. O. F. 
Cropen, p. p., see Crepe. damoisele. 
Cros, n., cross. A. S. Dampnable, adj., damnable. O. 
Croude, v., push. A. S. creodan. F. damnable. 
Croune, n., see Coroune. Dampnacioun, n., damnation, 
Crouned, p. p., crowned. 0. F. condemnation. O. F. dam- 
coroner, nation. 
Crowe, n., crow. A. S. crawe. Dampne, v., condemn. O. F. 
Croys, n., cross. 0. F. crois. dampner. 

Cruelliche, adv., cruelly. Dan, n., lord, sir (a title of res- 

Cnieltee, n., cruelty. 0. F. pect). 0. F. dan (L. dominus). 

cruelte. Dane, Daphne. 

Crul, adj., curly. Dar, v., dare. From Durre. 

Crydestow, v., pron., second A. S. durran. 

pers. sing., pres. indie, didst Dares, Dares Phrygius: sup- 

thou cry out. From Crye. F. posed author of a Greek history 

crier. of the destruction of Troy, the 

Cryke, n., creek. 0. F. crique. original form of the De Ex- 

Cubyte, n., cubit. L. cubitus. cidio Trojae Historia. Dares 

Cukkow, n., see Cokkow. was supposed to have lived 

Cunne, v., see Conne. before Homer. The De Ex- 

Cupido, Cupid. cidio, in Latin, is a clumsy 

Curat, n., parish-priest, vicar. and 7neager narrative, probably 

L. L. curatus. of the fifth century A . D. 

Cure, n., cure, remedy, heed, Darreyne, v., vindicate one's 

care, endeavour. 0. F. right to, decide one's claim 

Curiositee, n., curiosity. 0. F, to. O. F. deraisnier. 

curiosite. Darte, n., dart. O. F. dart. 

Curious, adj., careful, attentive, Daswed, p. p., dazed, confused. 

skillfully made, ornate. 0. F. Cf. O. F. daser; O. A^. dasa. 

curios. Daun, see Dan. 

Currours, n., couriers, runners. Daunce, n., dance. 0. F. dance. 

Cf. 0. F, courier. Daunce, v., dance. O. /"'. dancer. 

Curs, n., curse. A. S. Daunger, n., disdain, ofhshness, 



442 



GLOSSARY 



imperiousness, 0. F. dangler. 

In daunger, in jurisdiction, in 

control. 
Daungerous, adj., forbidding, 

grudging. 
Daunse, v., see Daunce. 
Daunte, v., daunt, tame, subdue. 

O. F. danter. 
Dawe, v., dawn. A,S. dagian. 
Dayerye, n., dairy. A. S. dsege 

— F. erie. 
Dayesye, n., daisy. A. S, 

daeges — eage. 
Debaat, n., strife. O. F. debat. 
Debate, i>., fight, quarrel. 0. 

F. debatre. 
Debonaire, adj., gracious, cour- 
teous, calm, gentle. 0. F. 
Debonairly, adv., debonairly, 

gently, graciously. 
Debonairte, n., gentleness, gra- 

ciousness. O. F. debonairete. 
Declame, v., declaim, discuss. 

L. declamare. 
Dedalus, Daedalus. 
Dede, n., deed, act. A. S. 

dsed/. 
Deduyt, n., pleasure. F. deduit. 
Deed, adj., dead. A. S. dead. 
Deedly, adj., deathlike, mortal. 

A. S. deadlic. 
Deef, adj., deaf. A. S. deaf. 
Deel, n., part, bit. A. S. dsel. 
Deer, n., animal. A. S. deor. 
Dees, n., plu., dice. O. F. de. 
Dees, n., dais. O. F. dels. 
Deeth, n., death. A. S. dea}?. 

The deeth, death, the plague. 
Defaute, n., fault, want. 0. F. 

On a defaute y-falle, had a 

check (hunting). 
Defence, n., defense, interfer- 
ence, hindrance, concealment. 

O. F. defense. 
Defende, v., defend, forbid. 

0. F. defendre. 
Defet, p.p., overcome, exhausted. 

O. F. desfait. 
Defyne, v., define, depict. O. F. 

definer. 
Degree, n., rank, step. O. F. 

degre. 
Deiscorides, Dioscorides: a 



Greek physician of the second 
century A. D. 

Del, n., see Deel. 

Dele, v., to have dealings with, 
argue. A. S. daelan. 

Deliberacioun, n., deliberation. 
L. deliberatio. 

Delibere, v., deliberate, consider. 
L. deliberare. 

Delicacye, Delicasye, n., amuse- 
ment, wantonness. 

Delicat, adj., delicate, tender, 
dainty. L. delicatus. 

Delitable, adj., delightful, pleas- 
ing. O. F. 

Deliver, adj., quick, active. 0. 
F. delivre. 

Deliverly, adv., nimbly, quickly. 

Delphos, Delphi. 

Delph3m, Delphinus: the name 
of a constellation. 

Delve, v., dig. A. S. delfan. 

Delyces, n., plu., delights, pleas- 
ures. 0. F. delice. 

Delyt, n., delight, joy. O. F, 
delit. 

Delyte, v., delight, please. O. F. 
deleitier. 

Demaunde, n., question. O. F. 
demande. 

Deme, v., deem, judge, decide, 
suppose. A. S. deman. 

Demeine, v., manage. 0. F. 
demener. 

Demonstracioun, n., demonstra- 
tion, L. demonstratio. 

Demophon, Demophoon. 

Depardieux, on the part of God, 
by God's help. 

Departe, v., separate, part. F. 
departir. 

Departinge, s., departure, sep- 
aration. F. departir. 

Depe, adv., deeply. A. S. deope. 

Depeynted, p. p., depicted, 
painted. 0. F. depeindre. 

Depper, adv., compar., see Depe. 

Dere, adj., dear; adv., dearly. 
A. S. deore. 

Dere, v., injure, harm. A. S. 
derian. 

Derk, adj., dark. A. S. deorc. 

Derkly, adv., darkly, obscurely. 



GLOSSARY 



443 



Derre, adv., compar., see Dere. 

Dertemouthe, Dartmouth. 

Derth, n., dearth. 

Descente, n., descent. F, 

Desceme, v., discern. F, dis- 
cemer. 

Descripcioun, n., description. 0. 
F. description. 

Descryve, v., describe. 0. F. des- 
crivre. See Discrjrve. 

Desdeyn, n., disdain. O. F. 
desdein. 

Desert, n., deserted spot, wilder- 
ness. F. 

Desespaired, p. p., in despair. 
0. F. desesperer. 

Desespeir, n., despair. 0. F. 

Desesperaunce, n., despair. 0. 
F. desesperance. 

Desolat, adj., desolate, forsaken. 
L, desolatus. 

Despeyred, p. p., sunk in de- 
spair. 0. F. desperer. See 
Dispeyre. 

Despitous, adj., spiteful, angry, 
scornful. 0. F. 

Despitously, adv., spitefully, ma- 
liciously, cruelly. 

Desplaye, v., display. 0. F. 
despleier. 

Despone, v., see Dispone. 

Desporte, v., rejoice, amuse. 
0. F. desporter. 

Despyt, n., malice, spite. 0. F, 
despit. 

Desseveraunce, n., separation. 
0. F. dessevrance. 

Destinee, n., destiny, 0. F. 

Destourbe, v., disturb, prevent. 
0. F. destourber. 

Destresse, n., distress. 0. F. 
destrece. 

Destreyne, v., distress, con- 
strain, force. 0. F. des- 
treindre. 

Destroubled, p. p., disturbed, 
troubled. O. F. destroubler. 

Destniccioun, n., destruction. 
F. destruction. 

Desyr, n., desire. F. desir. 

Desyre, v., desire. F. desirer. 

Dette, n., debt. 0. F. 

Dettelees, adj., debtless. 



Devocioun, n., devotion. 0. F. 
devocion. 

Devoir, n., duty. O. F. 

Devyn, n., diviner, soothsayer. 
O. F. devin. 

Devyne, v., divine, guess. 0. F. 
deviner. 

Devys, v., device, contrivance, 
arrangement. O. F. devis. 

Devyse, v., describe, tell, plan. 
0. F. deviser. 

Dew, n., dew. A. S. deaw. 

Deyde, v., pret., see Deye. 

Deye, n., dairy-woman. 0. N, 
deigja. 

Deye, v., die. O. N. deyja. 
See Dye. 

Deyed, v., pret., see Deye. 

Deyinge, s., death. 0. N. 
deyja. 

Deyne, v., deign. 0. F. deignier. 

Deynous, adj., disdainful, scorn- 
ful. 0. F. (des)deignos. 

Deyntee, n., worth, value, pleas- 
ure. 0. F. deintie. 

Deyntee, adj., dainty, pleasant, 
rare. 

Deyntevous, adj., dainty. 

Deys, n., see Dees. 

Diane, Diana. 

Diapred, p. p., variegated, di- 
versified with figures. 0. F. 
diasprer. 

Dich, n., ditch. 

Diched, p. p., provided with a 
ditch or moat. A. S. dician. 

Diete, n., diet. F. diete. 

Diffame, n., evil name, ill report. 
0. F. 

Diffame, v., defame, dishonor. 
0. F. dififamer. 

Diffyne, v., see Defyne. 

Digestyves, n., plu., digestives. 
F. digestif. 

Dighte, v., prepare, array, serve. 
A. S. dihtan. 

Digne, adj., worthy, honorable, 
suitable, proud. 0. F. 

Digneliche, adv., worthily, fit- 
tingly, scornfully. 

Dignitee, n., worth, dignity. 
O. F. dignite. 

Diner, n., dinner. F. 



444 GLOSSARY 

Dint, n., stroke, blow. A. S. Dispeyre, v., despair. 0. F. 

dynt. desperer. See Despeyred. 

Diocyse, n., diocese. 0. F. Dispitous, adj., see Despitous. 

diocise. Displesaunce, n,, displeasure, 

Dione: a female Titan, mother offense. O. F. desplaisance. 

of Venus {Aphrodite). Displese, v., displease. 0. F. 

Disavaunce, v., check, defeat. desplaisir. 

O. F. desavancier. Dispoile, v., despoil. 0. F. 

Disaventure, n., misfortune. O. despoillier. 

F. desaventure. Dispone, v., dispose, order. L. 

Dischevele, adj., see Disshevele. disponere; 0. F. disponer. 

Disclaundre, y., reproach, slander. Disport, n., play, sport. O. F. 

Disconfiture, n., defeat, dis- desport. 

comfiture. 0. F. desconfiture. Disporte, v., see Desporte. 
Disconfort, n., discomfort, dis- Disposicioun, n., disposition, dis- 
couragement. O. F. descon- posal. O. F. disposicion. 

fort. Disputisoun, n., disputation, ar- 

Disconforte, v., discourage, O. gument. A. F. desputeison. 

F. desconforter. Dispyt, n., see Despyt. 

Disconsolat, adj., disconsolate. Disshevele, adj., with hair flow- 

L. disconsolatus. ing down. 0. F. deschevele. 

Discordaunt, adj., discordant. 0. Dissimulacioun, n., dissimula- 

F. descordant. tion. F. dissimulation. 

Discrecioun, n., discretion. F. Dissimule, v., dissimulate. 0. F. 

discretion. dissimuler. 

Discreve, Discryve, v., describe. Disteyne, v., stain, bedim. 0. F. 

O. F. descrivre. See Des- desteindre. 

cryve. Distourbe, v., see Destourbe. 

Discure, v., discover, reveal. Distresse, n., see Destresse. 

0. F. descouvrir. Distreyne, v., see Destreyne. 

Disdeyn, n., see Desdeyn. Divers, adj., diverse, different. 

Disdeyne, v., disdain. 0. F. F. 

desdeignier. Diversitee, n., diversity, variety. 

Disese, n., discomfort, grief, dis- F. diversite. 

tress, disease. O. F. desaise. Divinistre, n., divine, theologian. 

Disese, v., trouble, distress, in- Divisioun, n., division, distinc- 

commode. O. F. desaaisier. tion. 0. F. division. 

Disesperat, adj., hopeless. Divyn, adj., divine. 0. F. divin. 

Disfigurat, adj., disguised. Divyne, v., guess. O. F. deviner. 

Disgyse, v., disguise. O. F. Divynis, n., plu., see Devyn. 

desguiser. Do, v., do, execute; cause to be. 

Disherited, p. p., disinherited. A. S. don. Doon make, cause 

F. desheriter. to be made. 

Disioynt, n., failure, peril. O. F. Doctour, n., doctor, teacher. 

desjointe. 0. F. doctur. 

Disobeysaunt, adj., disobedient. Doctryne, n., instruction. F. 

Disordinaunce, n., disorder, vio- doctrine. 

lation of the rules. 0. F. Dogge, n., dog. A. S. docga. 

desordenance. Doghter, n., daughter. A. S, 

Disparage, n., disparagement, dohtor. Doghtren, Doughtren, 

disgrace. 0. F. desparage. plu. 

Dispence, n., expenditure, ex- Doke, n., duck. A. S. duce. 

pense. 0. F. despense. Dokked, p. p., docked, cut short. 



GLOSSARY 



445 



Dolven, p. p., buried. See Delve. 

Domb, adj., dumb. A. S. dumb. 

Domesday, n., doom's day. A. 
S. domes — daeg. 

Dominacioun, 71., dominion, 
}iowcr. L. dominatio. 

Don, v., see Do. 

Don, do — on, put on. See Do. 

Dong, n., dung, manure. A. S. 
dung. 

Donge, v., dung, manure. 

Dongeoun, n., keep-tower. F. 
donjon. 

Donne, adj., plu., dun-coloured, 
dusky. A. S. dunn. 

Doom, n., judgment, opinion, 
decision. A. S. dom. 

Doon, v., see Do. 

Dore, n., door. A. S. duru. 

Dormant, adj., see Table. 

Dorste, v., pret., see Dar. 

Doseyn, n., dozen. 0. F. doseine. 

Dossers, n., plu., baskets to 
carry on the back. O. F. 
dossier. 

Doucet, adj., dulcet {pipe), sweet- 
sounding (pipe). F. 

Doughter, n., see Doghter. 

Doimib, adj., see Domb. 

Doun, n., down, soft feathers. 
0. N. dunn. 

Doutaunce, n., doubt, per- 
plexity. 0. F, doutance. 

Doute, n., doubt, fear. O. F. 

Doute, v., doubt, fear. O. F. 
douter. 

Doutelees, adv., doubtless. 

Doutremere, adj., from beyond 
the sea, foreign, imported. 

Douve, n., dove. {A. S. dufe.) 

Dowaire, Dowere, n., dower. 
O. F. douaire. 

Dowve, 71., see Douve. 

Drad, p. p.; Dradde, v., pret.] 
see Drede. 

Dragoun, n., dragon. 0, F. 
dragon. 

Draughte, n., draft, drink. 

Drecche, v., be tedious, vex, de- 
lay. A. S. dreccan. 

Drede, n., dread, fear, doubt. 

Drede, v., dread, fear. A. S. 
drsedan. 



Dredeles, adv., without doubt, 

certainly. 
Dredful, adj., fearful, timid. 
Dredfully, adv., timidly. 
Dreem, n., dream. 
Dreinte, v., pret., see Drenche. 
Dreme, v., dream. 
Drenche, v., drown. A. S. 

drencan. 
Drerinesse, n., dreariness. 
Drery, adj., dreary, sad. A. S. 

dreorig. 
Dresse, v., direct, prepare. 0. 

F. drecier. 
Dreye, adj., dry. A. S. dryge. 
Dreynt, p. p.; Dreynte, v., pret.; 

see Drenche. 
Drinke, n., drink. A. S. drinca. 
Drinkelees, adj., without drink, 
Drogges, 71., plu., drugs. F. 

drogue. 
Droghte, n., drought. A. S. 

drugaS /. 
Dronk, v., pret. sing., drank. 

From Drinke. A. S. drincan. 
Dronkelewe, adj., addicted to 

drink, drunken. Dronken — • 

A. S. Isewe. 
Dronkenesse, n,, drunkenness. 
Droof, v., pret. si7ig., see Dryve. 
Drope, n., drop. A. S. dropa. 
Droupe, v., droop. 0. N. drupa. 
Drow, v., pret. sing., drew. From 

Drawe. A. S. dragan. 
Drugge, v., drudge. 
Drye, adj., see Dreye. 
Drye, v., endure, suffer. A, S. 

dreogan. 
Dryve, v., drive, hasten, pass. 

A. S. drifan. 
Duche, German. 
Duchesse, 71., duchess. F, 
Duetee, 7i., duty, debt. A. F, 

duete. 
Duk, n., duke. F. due. 
Dul, adj., dull, sad, stupid. A. 

S. dol. 
Dulcarnon, n., an inexplicable 

dilemma. Arabic dhu al- 

qamain. 
Dulle, v., feel dull, grow tired. 
Duracioun, n., duration, term. 

0. F. duration. 



446 GLOSSARY 

Dure, v., endure, last, remain. Eke, adv., see Eek. 

O. F. durer. Ekko, n., echo. L. echo. 

Durste v., pret., see Dar. Eleanor: perhaps Helcanor of the 
Duske, v., grow dim. thirteenth century prose romance 

Dwelle, v., remain, tarry, delay. Cassidorus (see Tatlock, Mod. 

A. S. dwellan. Lang. Notes, xxxvi, gj ff.) 

Dyamaunt, n., diamond. O. F. Elde, n., old age, A. S. eldo. 

diamant. Eleccioun, n., choice, election. 0. 
Dyane, Diana. F. election. 

Dyde, v., pret., see Do or Dye. Eles, n., gen. sing., eel's; plu., 
Dye, v., see Deye. eels. A. S. sel. 

Dyke, v., make dikes or ditches. Eleyne, Helen. 

A. S. dician. See Diched. Elicon, Helicon. 

Dys, n., plu., see Dees. EUebor, n., hellebore. 

Dytees, n., plu., ditties. 0. F. EUes, adv., else, otherwise. A. S. 

ditie. Elvish, adj., elf-like, reserved, 
Dyverse, v., vary. 0. F. diverser. shy. 

Dyversitee, n., see Diversitee. Elye, Elijah. 

Embassadour, n., ambassador. 
^ F. ambassadeur. 

Eacides, .ffiacides: Achilles, Embosed, p. p., plunged into a 

grandson of Macus. thicket. 

Ebrayk, Hebrew. See Hebraik. Embrouded, p. p., embroidered. 

Ecclesiaste, n., minister. Emelward, toward Emilia: a 
Ecclesiaste, Ecclesiasticus: one region in Italy. 

of the books of the Apocrypha. Emeraude, n., emerald. 0. F. 
Ech, adj., each. A. S. eelc. esmeraude. 

Eche, v., increase, augment. Emes, n., gen., see Eem. 

A. S. ecan. Emforth, prep., to the extent of. 

Echoon, Echon, pron., each one, Emperesse, n., empress. 0. F. 

every one. Empoisoner, n., poisoner. 

Eclympasteyr : son of Morpheus, Empoisoning, s., poisoning. F. 

named Icelon and Phobetora empoisonner. 

in Ovid. Chaucer found the Emprente, v., imprint, impress. 

present name in Froissart. O. F. empreindre. 

Ector, Hector. Emprys^, n., enterprise, under- 
Eek, adv., also, eke, moreover. taking, emprise. 0. F. em- 

A. S. eac. prise. 

Eem, n., uncle. A. S. earn. Enbrace, v., embrace, surround. 
Eest, n., adv., east. See Est. O. F. embracier. 

Eet, v., pret. sing., see Ete. Enbrouded, p. p., embroidered. 
Eft, adv., again. A. S. eft. See Embrouded. 

Eft-sone, Eft-sones, adv., im- Encens, n., incense. O. F. 

mediately afterward, soon Enchaunte, v., enchant. O. F. 

after, once again. A. S. eft — enchanter. 

sona. Enchauntement, n., enchant- 
Egal, adv., equally. F. ment. O. F. enchantement. 

Egipte, Egypt. Enchesoun, n., occasion, reason. 
Egle, n., eagle. O. F. 0. F. encheson. 

Egre, adj., sharp, fierce, bitter. Enclyne, v., induce, incline. 0. 

F. aigre. F. encliner. 

Eighte, n., eight. A. S. eahta. Encombre, y., encumber, hamper. 
Eir, n., see Eyr. 0. F. encombrer. 



GLOSSARY 



447 



Encombrous, adj., cumbersome. 

Encrees, n., increase. 

Encrese, v., increase. O. F. 
encreistre. 

Ende, n., end, boundary. A. S. 

Endelong, adv., prep., all along, 
lengthways. 

Endyte, v., write, compose, re- 
late, dictate. O. F. enditer. 

Eneydos, -^neid (/Eneidos 
liber) . 

Enforme, v., inform. 0. F. en- 
former. 

Engelond, England. 

Engendrure, n., i)rocreation, be- 
getting. O. F. engendreure. 

Engyn, n., device, machine, 
ingenuity. O. F. engin. 

Engyned, p. p., tortured. 0. F. 
engignier. 

Enhabit, p. p., devoted. 0. F. 
enhabiter. 

Enhaunce, v., enhance, raise, 
exalt. A. F. enhauncer. 

Enhorte, v., exhort. O. F. en- 
horter. 

Enlumine, v., illumine. F. en- 
luminer. 

Enok, Enoch. 

Enoynt, p. p., anointed. O. F. 
enoindre. 

Enquere, v., inquire. O. F, 
enquerre. 

Ensample, Ensaumple, n., ex- 
ample, pattern. O. F. en- 
sample. 

Enseled, p. p., sealed up, com- 
pleted. 0. F. enseeler. 

Enspyre, v., inspire. 0. F. 
enspirer. 

Ensure, v., promise, certify. 

Entencioun, n., intention, at- 
tention, design. 0. F. en- 
tencion. 

Entende, v., attend, intend, 
perceive. 0. F, entendre. 

Entendement, n., perception. 
O. F. 

Entente, n., intention, meaning, 
attention. 0. F. entente. 

Ententif, adj., attentive, careful. 
O. F. 

Ententifly, adv., attentively. 



Entraille, n., entrails, inside. O. 

F. 
Entree, w., entry, entrance. O. F. 

entre. 
Entremedled, p. p., intermingled, 

O. F. entremedler. 
Entremes, n., intervening course, 

a dish served between courses. 

0. F. 
Entremete, v., interfere, meddle 

with. 0. F. entremetre. 
Entreparte, v., share. O. F. 

entrepartir. 
Entryke, v., ensnare, entrap. 

O. F. entriquier. 
Entune, v., intone, tune. 0. F. 

entoner. 
Entunes, n., plu., tunes. 
Envoluped, p. p., enveloped. 

O. F. envoluper. 
Envye, n., malice, spite, envy. 

F. envie. 
Envye, v., vie, strive. O. F. 

envier. 
Envyned, p. p., provided with a 

store of wine. 0. F. envine. 
Envyous, adj., envious, spite- 
ful, malicious. 
Eolus, -^olus. 
Equitee, n., equity, justice. F. 

equite. 
Er, adv., conj., prep., before. 

A. S. abT. See Or. 
Erand, n., errand. A. S. aerende. 
Erbe Yve, n., herb eve, ground 

ivy. 
Erchedeken, n., archdeacon. A, 

S. arcediacon. 
Ercules, Hercules. 
Ere, n., ear. A. S. eare. 
Ere, v., plough. A. S. erian. 
Erl, n., earl. A. S. eorl. 
Erly, adv., early. A. S. serlice. 
Erme, v., feel sad, grieve. A. S. 

earmian. 
Ernest, n., earnest, seriousness. 

A. S. eornost. 
Ernestful, adj., serious. 
Erratik, adj., wandering. L. 

erraticus. 
Erraunt, adj., errant, stray. 0. 

F. errant. 
Errour, n., error. 0. F. error. 



448 



GLOSSARY 



Erst, adv., first, at first. A. S. 

aerest. 
Erthe, n., earth. A. S. eorSe. 
Erthely, adj., earthly, mortal. 

A. S. eorjjlic. 
Eschaunge, n., exchange. 0. F. 

eschange. 
Eschewe, v., eschew, avoid, shun. 

O. F. eschiwer. 
Ese, n., ease, pleasure. 0. F. aise. 
Ese, v., give ease, make at home, 

entertain. O. F. aisier. 
Esiliche, Esily, adv., easily. 
Espye, n., spy. 0. F. espie. 
Espye, v., espy, observe, per- 
ceive. O. F. espier. 
Est, n., adj., east. A. S. east. 

See Eest. 
Estaat, Estat, n., state, rank, 

condition. 0. F. estat. 
Estatlich, Estatly, adj., stately, 

dignified. 
Estiaunge, adj., strange. 0. F. 

estrange. 
Estre, n., inner part of a build- 
ing, recess. O. F. 
Estward, adv., eastward, in the 

east. 
Esy, adj., easy. O. F. aisle. 
Ete, v., eat. A. S. etan. 
Eterne, adj., eternal. 0. F. 
Ethe, adj., easy. A. S. eaSe. 
Evangelist, n., writer of the 

Gospel. F. evangeliste. 
Evel, adv., ill. A. S. yfela. 
Even, n., evening. A. S. sefen. 
Even, adv., exactly, evenly. A. 

S. efne. 
Eventyde, n., evening. A. S. 

£ef entid /. 
Evere, adv., ever. A. S. sefre. 
Everemo, adv., for ever more, 

always. A. S. sefre — ma. 
Everich, adj., each, every one. 

A. S. sefre— aelc. 
Everichoon, Everychoon, pron., 

every one, each one. Everich 

~A. S. an. 
Everydel, adv., every bit, alto- 
gether. Every — A. S. dael. 
Ew, n., yew-tree. A. S. eow. 
Excercyse, n., exercise. F. ex- 

ercice. 



Excesse, n., excess, excess of 
feeling. L. excessus. 

Execucioun, n., execution. F. 
execution. 

Executrice, n., (female) per- 
former, causer, A. F. 

Exemple, n., example. 0. F. 
example. 

Exercyse, n., see Excercyse. 

Exorsisaciouns, n., exorcisms. 

Expoune, v., explain, expound. 
O. F. espondre; L. exponere. 

Expres, adv., expressly. F. 

Exyle, v., exile. O. F. exillier. 

Ey, n., egg. A. S. seg. 

Ey, interj., eh! alas! 

Eye, n., eye. A. S. eage. See Ye. 

Eyen, n., plu., see Eye. 

Eyle, v., ail. A. S. eglan. 

Eyr, n., air. O. F. air. 

Eyrish, adj., of the air, aerial. 

Eyther, adj., either. A, S. 
segSer. 



Facound, adj., eloquent, fluent. 
0. F. facond. 

Facounde, n., eloquence. 0. F, 
faconde. 

Facultee, n., faculty, power. 
F. faculte. 

Fader, n., father. A. S. faeder. 

Fadme, n., plu., fathoms. A. S. 
fseSm /. 

Faille, v., fail. F. faillir. 

Faire, adv., fairly, well, honestly. 
A. S. fsegere. 

Fairnesse, n., beauty, honesty.' 
A. S. faegernes/. 

Fal, n., fall. 

Falding, n., a sort of coarse cloth. 

Falle, v., befall, happen, become. 
A. S. feallan. 

False, adj., false, cheating. O. F. 
fals. 

False, v., deceive, betray, falsify. 
L. falsare. 

Falwe, adj., fallow, yellowish. 
A. S. fealo. 

Fame, n., notoriety, rumor, re- 
nown. O. F. 

Famulier, adj., familiar, inti- 
mate. F, 



GLOSSARY 449 

Fantastyk, adj., belonging to the Felaweshipe, n., partnership, 

fancy. F. fantastique. comi)anionship. Felawe — A. 

Fantasye, n., faney, imagina- iS.-scipe. 

tion, desire, pleasure. 0. F. Feld, w., see Feeld. 

fantasie. Feld, />. ??., felled. From Felle. 

Fantosme, n., phantom, illusion. A. S. fellan. 

O. F. Felde-fare, n., field-fare. A. S. 

Far, v., imper. sing., see Fare. feldefare. 

Fare, n., behavior, conduct, Fele, adj., many. A. S. feola. 

condition, goings-on, bustle, Fele, v., feel, experience, try to 

proceeding. A. S. faru. find out. A. S. felan. 

Fare, v., go, travel, act, behave. Felicitee, n., felicity, happiness. 

A. S. faran. F. felicite. 

Fare-carte, n., travelling cart. Felinge, s., feeling. A. S. felan. 

*SVc' Carte. Felingly, adv., feelingly. 

Farsed, p. p., stuffed. 0. F. Felon, adj., sullen, angry. O. F. 

farsir. Felonye, n., felony, crime. O. F. 

Faste, adv., closely, close, near. felonie. 

A. S. faeste. Femenye: the country of the 

Faucon, n., falcon. O. F. Amazons. 

Faught, v., pret., fought. From Feminyne, adj., feminine. L. 

Fighte. A. S. feohtan. femininus. 

Fanned, v., pret., fawned on. A. Fen, n., a chapter or subdivision 

*S'. fagnian. in Avicenna's book called the 

Faunes, n., plu., fawns. L. Canon. Arabic fann. 

faunus. See Founes. Fenix, n., phcenix. 

Fawe, adv., fain, anxiously. A. Fer, adj., adv., far. A. S. 

S. faegen. feor. 

Fayn, adj., glad; adv., gladly. Ferd, n., fear. For ferde, on 

A. S. faegen. account of fear. 

Faynte, v., faint. Ferd, p. p.; Ferde, v., pret.; see 

Fayre, n., fair, market. O. F. Fare. 

feire. Ferd, Fered, p. p., see Fere. 

Feble, adj., feeble. O. F. feible. Fere, n., fear. A. S. faer. 

Feblenesse, n., feebleness. Fere, v., frighten. A. S. fseran. 

Fecches, n., plu., vetches. 0. F. Fere, n., companion. A. S, 

veche. gefera. 

Fecche, v., fetch, get. A. S. Fere, n., dat., see Fyr. 

feccan. Ferforth, adv., far. 

Fedde, v., pret., fed. From Fede. Ferforthly, adv., thoroughly. 

A.S.iedan. Ferfulleste, adj., superl., most 

Feeld, n., field. A. S. feld. fearful, most timid. 

Feend, n., fiend, devil. A. S. Ferme, adj., firm. O. F. 

feond. Fermely, adv., firmly. 

Fees, n. plu., fees, payments. Feme, adj., plu., distant, remote. 

O. F. fie. From Ferren. A. S. feonan. 

Feith, n., faith. O. F. feit. Ferrare, Ferrara. 

Feithful, adj., faithful. Ferre, adj., compar., see Fer. 

Fel, n., fell, skin. A. S. fell. Ferreste, adj., superl., see Fer. 

Fel, adj., cruel, fell. O. F. fel. Fers, n., the queen in chess. 

Fel, v., pret. sing., see Falle. O. F. fierce. 

Felawe, n., fellow, companion. Ferthe, adj., fourth. A. S. 

0. N. felagi. feorSa. 



450 GLOSSARY 

Ferther, adj., adv., further. A. Fisshe, y., fish. ^. *S. fiscian. 

S. furSra. Fithele, n., fiddle. A. S. fiSele. 

Ferthing, n., farthing, small Fixe, adj., fixed. 0. F. fixe. 

portion. A. S. feorSung. Flatering, adj., flattering. 

Ferventliche, adv., fervently. Flateringe, s., flattery. 

Fery, adj., see Fyry. Flatour, n., flatterer. 0. F. 
Fesaunt, n., pheasant. 0. F. fiateor. 

faisant. Flaumbe, Flaume, n., flame. O. 
Fest, n., fist. A. S. fyst. F. flame. 

Feste, 71., feast, festival, merri- Flaundres, Flanders. 

ment. O. F. Flaundrish, Flemish. 

Feste, v., feast. O. F. fester. Flawme, n., see Flaumbe. 

Festeyinge, s., festivity. 0. F. Flee, v., fly. A. S. fleogan. 

festeier. Flee, v., flee. A. S. fleon. 

Festne, v., fasten. A. S. faest- Flegiton, Phlegethon. 

nian. Fleigh, v., pret. sing., flew, fled. 
Fet, 2>. p., see Fecche. See Flee. 

Fete, n., dat. plu., feet. A. S. Fleming, s., banishment, flight. 

fot. A. S. flyman. 

Fether,n., feather. A.S.fe^er. Flen, v., pres. plu., see Flee. 

Fetherbed, n., feather-bed. A. Fleshly, adv., carnally. 

S. feSer-bedd. Flete, v., float, bathe, flow. A. 
Fethered, adj., provided with S. fleotan. 

feathers. Flex, n., flax. A. S. fieax. 

Fetis, adj., neat, well-made, Fley, v., pret. sing., flew. From 

graceful. O. F. feitis. Flee, fly. See Fleigh. 

Fetisly, adv., neatly, elegantly. Flight, n., flight. 

Fette, v., pret., see Fecche. Flikere, v., flicker, flutter. A. S. 
Fettres, n., plu., fetters. A. S. fiicerian. 

feter. Flitte, v., flit, pass away. 0. N. 
Fetys, adj., see Fetis. fiytja. 

Fevere, n., fever. A. S. fefor; Flok, n., flock. 

of. 0. F. fievre. Flokmele, adv., in a flock. A. S. 
Fewe, adj., few. A. S. feawe. floe — mselum (dative plu.). 

Fey, n., faith. A. F. fei. Flood, n., flood, river, ^.^.flod. 

Feyne, v., feign, pretend. O. F. Flotery, adj., fluttering, wavy. 

feindre. Flough, v., pret. sing., see Flee. 

Feynest, adv., superl., most Flour, n., flower, choice part. 

gladly. A. S. faegen. 0. F. 

Feynte, v., see Faynte. Flour-de-lys, n., fleur-de-lis. F. 

Fiers, adj., fierce. 0. F. fier Floure, v., flower, flourish. Cf. 

(nom. fiers). 0. F, florir. 

Fifte, ord. num. fifth. A. S. fifta. Floury, adj., flowery. 

Fiftene, adj., fifteen. A. S. Floute, n., flute. O. F. flehute. 

fiftene. Flowen, v., pret. plu.; p. p.; see 
Fil, v., pret. sing., see Falle. Flee. 

Fille, n., fill. A. S. fyllo. Floyting, pres. parfic, playing 
Fille, v., pret. plu., see Falle. on the flute. 0. F. fleiiter. 

Finch, n., finch (bird). A. S. Flye, n., fly. A. S. flyge. 

fine. Pulle a finch, pluck a Flyen, v., pret. plu., see Flee. 

dupe. Fo, n., see Foo. 

Finnes, n., pZit., fins. A.S.^nn. Folde, n., fold, sheepfold. A, S. 
Firr, n., fir (tree). Danish fyrr. falod, 



GLOSSARY 



451 



Folis, n., phi., see Fool. 
Folwe, v., follow. A. S. folgian. 
Foly, adv., foolishly. 
Folye, n., folly. O. F. folic. 
Fomy, adj., foamy. A. S. famig. 
Fond, v., pret. sing., found. 

From Finde. A. S. findan. 
Fonde, v., endeavour. A. S. 

fandian. 
Fonde, v., pret. sing, subj., would 

find. From Finde. A. S. 

findan. 
Foo, 71., foe. A. S. fah. 
Fool, n., fool. O. F. fol. 
Foom, n., foam. A. S. fam. 
Foon, 71., j)lu., see Foo. 
Foot-brede, ?i., foot-breadth. 

Sec Brede. 
Foot-mantel, n., foot-cloth, cov- 
ering to protect the skirt. 

A. S. fot—O. F. mantel. 
Forbar, v., pret. sing., see Forbere. 
Forbede, v., forbid. A. S. for- 

beodan. 
Forbere, v., forbear. A. S. for- 

beran. 
Forbode, p. p., see Forbede. 
Forby, adv., by, past. A, S. 

for — ^bi. 
For-do, v., destroy, overcome. 

A. S. fordon. 
For-dronken, p. p., extremely 

drunk. A.S.p.p.,foTdTuncen. 
Forest, n., forest. O. F. 
Foresteres, n., plu. See Forster. 
Forgat, v., pret. sing., forgot. 

From Forgete. A . S. forgietan. 

See Foryete. 
Forgete, p. p., forgotten. From 

Forgete. ■ A. S. forgietan. 

See Foryete. 
For-go, p. p., exhausted with 

walking. A. S. f organ. 
Forgo, v., forgo, give up, lose. 

A. S. f organ. 
Forheed, n., forehead. A. S. 

forheafod. 
Forknowinge, pres. par tic., fore- 
knowing. A. S. for — cnawan. 
Forlete, v., leave, forsake, aban- 
don. A. S. fprlsetan. 
Forlong, n . , furlong. A.S, f urlang. 

A forlong wey, a short time. 



Forlost, p. p., utterly lost. A. S. 
for — leosan. 

Forloyn, n., note on a horn for 
recall. Cf. O. F. v. forsloignier. 

Forme, n., form. 0. F. 

Formel, n., female of the eagle, 
female bird in general. 

Formest, adj., superl., foremost. 
A. S. 

Forn-cast, /;. j)., premeditated. 
A. S. foran — O. N. kasta. 

Forneys, n., furnace. 0. F. 
fornais. 

For-pyned, p. p., wasted away 
by torment. 

Fors, n., force, significance. O. 
F. force. No fors, no matter, 
no consequence. Do no fors, 
take no account of. 

Forseid, p. p. adj., aforesaid. 

Forshapen, p. p., metamorphosed. 
A. S. forscieppan. 

Forsleuthe, v., waste in sloth. 

Forster, n., forester. F. forestier. 

Forsweringe, s., perjury. A. S. 
forswerian. 

Forthere, v., further. A. S, 
fyr'Sran. 

Forther-moor, adv., further on, 
moreover. A. S. furSra — 
mara. 

Forther-over, adv., moreover. 
A. S. fur'Sra — ofer. 

For-thinke, v., seem amiss, dis- 
please, seem serious. A. S. 
for — J?yncan. 

Forthre, v., see Forthere. 

For-thy, adv., therefore. A. S. 
forSy. 

Fortuna maior: a naine for the 
planet Jupiter, the influence of 
which was s7ipposed to be bene- 
ficent. V emis was also supposed 
to have favorable influence, and 
was called '^Fortuna minor. ^' 

Fortune, v., give (good or bad) 
fortune to, happen. 0. F. 
fortuner. Fortunen the as- 
cendent of his images, choose 
a fortunate ascendant for treat- 
ing the images: in order to 
e^ect a cure bij magic or planet- 
ary influence an image of the 



452 GLOSSARY 

patient could be made, which was Fraknes, n,, plu., freckles. O. N. 

submitted to the proper treat- freknur (plu.) 

ment, and by which the influ- Frankeleyn, n., franklin, a land- 

ence was transferred to the owner ranking next below the 

patient. The images, of course, gentry. A. F. fraunclein. 

had to be made and treated at Frape, n., company, throng. 0. F. 

exactly the right time. See Fraternitee, n., fraternity, 

Ascendent. brotherhood, O. F. fraternite. 

Forwaked, p. p., exhausted with Fraunce, France. 

watching. A. S. for — wacian. Frayne, v., pray, beseech, ask, 
Forward, n., agreement, cove- question. A. S. frignan. 

nant. A. S. foreweard. Fre, adj., see Free. 

Forweped, p. p., exhausted Fredom, n., freedom, liberality. 

through weeping, A. S. for — A. S. freedom. 

wepan. Free, adj., free, liberal, bounte- 
For-why, conj., wherefore, why, ous, noble. A. S. freo. 

because. Freend, n., friend. A. S. freond. 

Forwiting, s., foreknowledge. A. Freendlich, adj., friendly. A. S. 

S. forewitan. freondlic. 

Forwot, v., pres. sing., foreknows, Freendschipe, n., friendship. 

foresees. Froin Forewite. A. A. S. freond — scipe. 

S. forewitan. Freletee, n., frailty. 0. F. 
Forwrapped, p. p., wrapped up, frailete. 

concealed. Frely, adv., freely. 

Foryaf, v., pret. sing., see Foryive. Fremde, Fremede, adj., foreign, 
Foryede, v., pret. sing., gave up. strange, wild. A. S. fremede. 

See Forgo. Frendly, adv., friendly. 

Foryete,y., forget. ^ . *S. f orgietan. Frendlyeste, adj., superl., see 
Foryetful, adj., forgetful. Freendlich. 

Foryeve, Foryive, v., forgive, Frendschipe, n., see Freend- 

remit. A. S. forgiefan. schipe. 

Fostre, y., foster. A. S.n.fostoT. Frenesye, n., frenzy, madness. 
Fother, n., load, great quantity. O. F. frenesie. 

A. S. foSer. Frenetyk, adj., frantic. 0. F. 
Fot-hoot, adv., instantly, im- frenetique. 

mediately. A. S. fot — hat. Frenges, n., phi., fringes. 0. F. 
Foudre, n., thunderbolt. O. F. frenge. 

foldre. Frensh, French. 

Foul, n., bird, fowl. A. S. fugol. Frere, n., friar. O. F. frere. 

Foul, adj., foul. A. S. ful. Freshe, Fresshe, adj., fresh, 
Foule, adv., foully, vilely. bright. A. S. fersc; O. F.fres. 

Foundement, n., foundation. 0. Fresshe, adv., freshly. 

F. fundement. Frete, v., eat, devour. A. S. 
Fotmdre, v., founder, stumble. fretan. 

O. F. fondrer. Freyne, v., see Frayne. 

Founes, n., plu., fawns. 0. F. Fro, adv., prep., from. 

faon. See Faunes. Frote, v., rub. 0. F. froter. 

Foure, adj., four. A. S. feower. Fniyt, n., fruit. F. fruit. 

Fourtenight, n., fortnight. Fruytesteres, n., plu., female 
Fourty, adj., forty. A. S. fruit-sellers, fruit-sellers. 

feowertig. Fryse, Friesland. 

Fowel, n., see Foul. Fugitif, adj., fugitive, fleeing 
Foyne, v., thrust. 0. F. n. foine. from. F. 



GLOSSARY 



453 



FulfiUe, v., fulfiU, fill full. A. S. 

fulfyllan. 
Fulliche, adv., fully. A. S. 

fullice. 
Fume, n., vapor. O. F. 
Fumetere, n., fumitory: an herb. 

O. F. fumeterre. 
Fumigaciouns, n., plu., fumiga- 
tions. L. fumigatio. 
Fumositee, n., fumes arising 

from drink. 0. F. fumosite. 
Fundement, n., see Foundement. 
Funeral, adj., funereal. 
Fiu-ie, n., rage, fury, one of the 

Furies. F. 
Furlong, n., see Forlong. 
Fustian, n., fustian: a kind of 

coarse cloth. 
Fy, inter j., fie! 
Fyle, n., file. A. S. feci /. 
Fyle, v., file, sharpen, 
Fyn, 71., end, aim, object. O. F. 

fin. 
Fyn, adj., fine, good. O. F. fin. 
Fynal, adj., final. F. final. 
Fynally, adv., finally. 
Fyne, v., finish. 0. F. finer. 
Fyneste, adj., superl., see Fyn. 
Fyr, n., fire. A. S. fyr. 
Fyrbrand, 7i., fire-brand, torch. 

A. S. fyr-brand. 
Fyr-makinge, n., making of the 

fire. A. S. fyr — macian. 
Fyr-reed, adj., red as fire. See 

Reed. 
Fyry, adj., fiery. 
Fyve, adj., five. A. S. fife. 

G 
Gabbe, ?>., boast, speak idly. 

O. N. gabba. 
Gadere, v., gather. A. S. gader- 

ian. 
Galaxye, n., the Galaxy: the 

Milky Way. 
Galgopheye, Gargaphia: ivhere 

Actfcon was changed into a stag. 
Galice, Gallicia in Spain. 
Galien, Galen : a Greek physician, 

c. ijo-200 A. Z)., famous in 

the Middle Ages. 
Galingale, n., sweet cyperus: 

iLsed as a spice. 



Galle, n., gall. A. S. gealla. 

Game, n., game, sport. A. S. 
gamen. 

Game, v., rejoice, please. A. S. 
gamenian. 

Gamen, n., see Game. 

Gan, v., pret. sing., see Ginne. 

Gappe, n., gap. 

Gardin-wal, n., garden wall. 
O. F. gardin — A. S. weall. 

Gargat, 7i., throat. O. F. gargate. 

Garleek, n., garlic. A. S. gar- 
leac. 

Garlondes, n., pin., see Gerland. 

Gastly, adv., ghastly, terrible. 

Gat, IK, pret. sing., see Gete. 

Gatesden, John Gatisden of Ox- 
ford: a distinguished physician 
of the earlier half of the four- 
teenth century. 

Gat-tothed, adj., having the 
teeth far apart: a sign of an 
amorous temperament. 

Gaude, n., gaud, toy, trick. 

Gaude, adj., dyed with weld. 

Gauded, p. p., furnished with 
beads {called gauds). 

Gaufred, Geoffrey de Vinsauf: 
an Anglo-Norman trouvere 
of the end of the twelfth century 
and the beginning of the thir- 
teenth, author of the Nova Poe- 
tria. 

Gaufride, Geoffrey of Mon- 
mouth. 

Gaunt, Ghent. 

Gaure, v., stare, gaze. 

Gay, adj., gay, finely dressed. 
F. gai. 

Gayler, n., jailer. 0. F. jaiolier. 

Gayne, v., avail, profit. O. N. 
gegna. 

Gaytres beryls, n., plu., berries 
of the gait-tree {according to 
Skcat): the ^^ gait-tree ^^ or goat- 
tree is the buckthorn. 

Geaunt, n., giant. O. F. geant. 

Gebet, n., gibbet, gallows. O. F. 
gibet. 

Gemme, n., gem. F. 

Gendres, n., plu., kinds. 0. F. 
gendre. 

Genelon, Ganelon: one of the 



454 



GLOSSARY 



twelve peers of Charlemagne. 
He betrayed Roland and his 
men at Roncesvalles, and became 
known through the romances as 
one of the great traitors. 

General, adj., liberal, general, 
universal. O. F. 

Genilon, see Genelon. 

Gent, adj., noble, refined, ex- 
quisite. O. F. 

Gentil, adj., gentle, noble, re- 
fined, mild. 0. F. 

Gentillesse, n., gentleness, no- 
bility, courtesy, good breed- 
ing. F. gentilesse. 

Gentilleste, adj., superl., see 
Gentil. 

Gentils, n., plu., gentlefolk. 
See Gentil. 

Geometrie, n., geometry. F. 
geometrie. 

Gere, n., gear, armor, equip- 
ment. 

Gere, n., changeful manner, fit 
of passion. 

Gerful, adj., changeable. 

Gerland, n., garland. 0. F. 
garlande. 

Gernade, Granada. 

Gerner, n., garner. O. F. gemier. 

Gery, adj., changeable. 

Gesse, v., suppose, imagine. 

Gest, n., guest. A. S. gsest. 

Geste, n., romance, tale, story, 
exploit, deed. 0. F. 

Gestiours, n., plu., story-tellers. 

Gete, v., get, obtain. 0. N. 
geta. 

Gigges, n., plu., rapid move- 
ments. 

Gilbertyn, possibhj Gilbertus 
Anglicus: celebrated writer on 
medicine, ft. c. 1250. 

Gilden, adj., of gold. A. S. 
gylden. 

Gilt, n., guilt, ofTence. A. S. 

gyit. 

Giltelees, adj., guiltless. 

Gilty, adj., guilty. A. S. gyltig. 

Gin, n., contrivance, snare. O. 

F. engin. 
Gingle, v., jingle, 
Ginne, v., begin, attempt. A. S. 



beginnan. Gan {as auxiliary 
verb), did. 

Ginning, s., beginning. 

Gipoun, n., tunic, long sleeve- 
less coat worn over armor. 
O. F. gipon. 

Gipser, n., pouch or purse worn at 
the girdle. F. gibeciere. 

Girdel, n., girdle. A. S. gyrdel. 

Girles, n., plu., young people 
(male or female). 

Gitemes, n., plu., from Giteme: 
a wire-strung instrument like 
a guitar. 0. F. guiteme. 

Glade, v., gladden, cheer. A. S. 
gladian. 

Glare, v., glare, shine. 

Glas, n., glass. A. S. glass. 

Glascurion, Glasgerion : the 
harper in the ballad of that 
name. See Child, English and 
Scottish Popular Ballads, no. 
67. 

Glasing, n., glazing, glass-work. 

Glede, n., burning coal. A. S. 
gled/. 

Glee, n., music, musical instru- 
ment. A. S. gleo. 

Glente, v., pret. plu., glanced. 
From Glente. 

Glewe, v., glue, fasten. 0. F. 
gluer. 

Glitere, v., glitter. 

Glose, n., gloss, comment, mar- 
ginal comment. O. F, 

Glose, v., interpret, explain. 
O. F. gloser. 

Glotonye, n., gluttony. O. F. 
glotonie. 

Glotoun, n., glutton. 0. F. 
gluten. 

Glyde, v., glide, slip, pass quickly. 
A. S. glidan. 

Gobet, n., piece, morsel. O. F. 

Goddesse, n., goddess. 

Godhede, n., godhead, divinity. 

Godly, adj., goodly. A. S. 
godlic. 

Goldes, n., plu., marigolds. A. 
S. golde. 

Golee, n., mouthful (of words), 
gabble. O. F. 

Golet, n., gullet. O. F. goulet. 



GLOSSARY 



455 



Goliardeys, n., buffoon, sciirri- 

ous talker. O. F. goliardois. 
Gonne, n., gun, cannon. 
Gonne, v., pret. plu., see Ginne. 
Goodlihede, n., goodliness, seem- 

liness, beauty. 
Good-man, n., master of the 

house. A. S. god — man. 
Goon, v., infin., go; p. p., gone; 

from Go. A. S. gan. 
Goos, n., goose. A. S. gos. 
Goosish, adj., goose-h'ke, foohsh. 
Goostly, adv., spiritually, de- 
voutly, truly. A. S. gastlic. 
Goot, 71., goat. A. S. gat. 
Gootland, Gottland: an island 

in the Baltic. 
Goshauk, n., goshawk. A. S. 

goshafuc. 
Gossib, n., female companion, 

sponsor. A. S. godsibb. 
Gost, n., ghost, spirit. A. S. 

gast. 
Goter, 71., gutter. O. F. goutiere. 
Goth, v., pres. sing., goes. From 

Go. See Goon. 
Goune, n., gown. 0. F. gone. 
Goute, n., gout. F. 
Govemaille, n., mastery. O. F. 

govemail. 
Govemaunce, n., management, 

control, demeanor. O. F. 

gouvemance. 
Govemement, n., government. 

F. gouvemement. 
Governing, n., government, con- 
trol. 
Govemour, n., governor, ruler, 

umpire. O. F. govemeor. 
Gowne, n., see Goune. 
Grace, n., favor, grace, honor. 

O. F. With harde grace, with 

ill favor, with displeasure. 
Gracelees, adj., void of grace, 

without favor. 
Grame, n., anger, grief, harm. 

A. S. grama. 
Grammere, n., grammar. O. F. 

gramaire. 
Gras, 71., grass. A. S. grses. 
Graunges, 7i., plu., barns. A. F. 

graunge. 
Graunt mercy, interj., thanks. 



thank you. O. F. grant 

merci. 
Graunte, v., grant, agree to. 

O. F. graanter. 
Grave, v., engrave, cut, impress, 

dig, bury. A. S. grafan. 
Grece, Greece. 

Grece, n., grease. 0. F. graisse. 
Gree, 7i., favor, good part. O. F. 

gre. 
Greet, adj., great, abundant. 

A. 8. great. 
Grehoundes, n., plu., grey- 
hounds. A.*S\grighund. 
Grek, Greek. 

Grene, adj., green. A. S. grene. 
Grenewich, Greenwich. 
Grenish, adj., greenish. 
Gres, n., see Gras. 
Gret, adj., see Greet. 
Grete, v., greet. A. S. gretan. 
Gretter, adj., co7npar., see Greet. 
Gretteste, adj., superl., see Greet. 
Grevaunce,n., grievance, trouble, 

hardship. O. F. grevance. 
Greve, n., grove. A. S. graf. 
Greve, v., grieve, harm, trouble. 

O. F. grever. 
Greyn, n., grain, corn. O. F. 

grein. 
Greyn, n., dye, fast color. 0. F. 

graine. 
Griffon, n., griffin. 0. F. grifoun. 
Grint, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

indie., grinds. From Grinde. 

^. *S. grmdan. 
Grisel, "gray hair": name given 

to a grajj horse. O. F. 
Grisly, adj., horrible, terrible. 

A. S. grislic. 
Grone, v., groan. A. S. granian. 
Grope, v., try, test, examine. 

A. S. grapian. 
Grote, n., groat: a coin. The 

English groat coined in 1351-2 

was equal to four pence. O. 

Du. groot. 
Grove, n., grove. A, S. graf. 

See Greve. 
Grucche, v., murmur, grumble. 

O. F. grochier. 
Gnicching, s., murmuring, 

grumbling. 0. F. grochier. 



456 GLOSSARY 

Gruf, adv., groveling, on one's Halt, v. , third pers. sing., pres. 

face. 0. N. grufa. indie, see Halte. 

Grys, n., a gray fur. 0. F. gris. Halt, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

Guerdoning, s., reward. indie, see Holde. 

Guerdoun, n., reward, recom- Halte, v., go halt, limp. A. S. 

pense. O. F. guerdon. healtian. 

Guido de Columpnis, Guido Halvendel, n., the half part, 

delle Colonne: who in 1270- half. See Deel. 

1287 wrote a Latin redaction Halwes, n., plu., saints. A. S. 

(called the Historia Trojana) halig. 

of the Roman de Troye of Haly: an Arabian physician of 

Benoit de Sainte-More. the eleventh century. 

Gunne, v., pret. plu., see Ginne. Hameled, p. p., mutilated, cut 

Gyde, n., guide. F. guide. off. A. S. hamelian. 

Gyde, v., guide, direct, lead. F. Hamer, n., hammer. A. S. 

guider. Han, v., infin.; pres. plu.; have. 

Gye, v., guide, instruct, govern. A. S. haebban. 

O. F. guier. Hap, n., chance, luck. 0. N. 

Gyle, 71., deceit, guile. O. F. happ. 

guile. Happe, v., happen. 

Gyse, n., guise, manner, way. Hardely, adv., hardly, scarcely; 

O. F. guise. boldly, unhesitatingly, cer- 

Gytes, n., plu., dresses. Cf. tainly. A. S. heardlice. 

O. F. guite. Hardiment, n., boldness. O. F. 

hardement. 

H Hardinesse, n., boldness. 

Habergeon, n., coat of mail Hardy, adj., bold, sturdy. F, 

shorter than the hauberk; hardi. 

hauberk. O. F. hauberjon {di- Harlot, n., person of low birth, 

minutive of hauherc) . ribald, rogue. O. F. 

Habitacioun, n., habitation. 0. Harlotrye, n., ribaldry, wicked- 

F. habitation. ness, ribald jest. 

Habitacles, n., plu., habitable Hameised, p. p., equipped. Cf. 

spaces, niches. O. F, O. F. hameschier. 

Habundant, adj., abundant. F. Hameys, n., armor, gear. O. F. 

abondant. harneis. 

Habundaunce, n., abundance. Harpe, n., harp. A. S. hearpe. 

F. abondance. Harpestringes, n., plu., harp- 

Hadde, v., pret., had. See strings. A. *S. hearpe — streng. 

Han. Harpour, n., harper. A.S.hear- 

Hailes, n., plu., hail-storms. pere. 

A. S. haegel. Harre, n., hinge. A. S. heorra. 

Hakke, v., hack. A. S. (to)- Harrow, interj., help! alas! O, 

haccian. F. haro. 

Hale, v., draw, haul, attract. Hasard, n., dice-play, hazard: 

0. F. haler. the name of a game played with 

Half, adj., half. A. S. healf. dice. 0. F. 

Half, n., side. A. S. healf. Hasardour, n., gamester. A. F. 

Halle, n., hall. A. S.heallf. Hasardrye, n., gaming, playing 

Halp, v., pret. sing., see Helpe. hazard. 

Hals, n., neck. A. S. heals. Hasdrubales, Hasdrubal's. 

Halse, v., conjure, beseech. A. Hasel, n., hazel-tree. A. S. 

S. healsian. hsesel. 



GLOSSARY 457 

Hasel-wode, n., hazel-wood: Helde, />., bend, incline, pour. A. 

i. e., no news, a popular saying S. heldan. Helde, pret. bent, 

expressive of incredulity . A. S. inclined, ])Oured. 

haesel — wudu. Hele, n., health. A. S. hselu. 

Haste, n., haste. 0. F. Hele, i>., conceal. A. S. helan. 

Haste, v., hasten. .0. F. haster. Hele, v., heal. A. S. hselan. 

Hastif, adj., hasty. O. F. Heled, p. p., concealed. See Hele. 

Hastilich, adv., hastily. Helelees, adj., out of health. 

Hastow, v., pron., second pers. Helle, n., hell. A. S. hell /. 

sing., pres. indie, hast thou. Helmed, p. p., furnished with a 

See Han. helm. A. S. helmian. 

Hatte, P., pret.; pret. as pres.; Helowys, Heloise. 

see Hote. Helpe, v., help. A. S. helpan. 

Hauberk, n., coat of mail. O. F. Helply, adj., helpful. 

hauberc. Hem, pron., dat. plu., them. 

Hauk, n., hawk. A. S. hafoc. Hemi-spere, n., hemisphere. 

Hauke, v., hunt with a hawk. Hem-self, pron., plu., themselves. 

Haunt, n., use, practice, skill. Hende, adj., courteous, polite. 
Haunte, v., use, practice, resort A. S. gehende. 

to. O. F. hanter. Heng, n., pret. sing., hung. From 
Hauteyn, adj., proud, stately. Hange. A. S. hon; hangian. 

O. F. haltain. Henne, adv., hence. A. S. heo- 
Hawe, n., yard, enclosure; fruit nan. 

of the dog-rose, haw. A, S. Hennes, n., plu., hens. A, S, 

haga. henn /. 

Hawethom-leves, n., plu., haw- Hennes, adv., hence. 

thorn-leaves. A.S.ha.ga.\>om — Hennes-forth, adv., henceforth. 

leaf. Hente, v., catch, seize, take. 
Hayles, the Abbey of Hailes, A. S. hentan. 

Gloucestershire. Hepe, v., heap, augment, ac- 
Hebraik, Hebrew. See Ebrayk. cumulate. A. S. heapian. 

Hed, 71., see Heed. Her, pron., gen. plu., their. 

Hede, n., heed. Heraud, n., herald. O. F. heraut. 

Hede, v., head, provide with a Heraude, v., herald, proclaim. 

head. O. F. herauder. 

Heed, n., head. A. S. heafod. Herbe, n., herb. O. F. 

Heep, n., heap, crowd, throng. Her-befom, adv., before this. A. 

A. S. heap. S. her — beforan. 

Heer, n., hair. A. S. hser. Herber, n., garden, arbor. 0. F. 
Heer, adv., here. A. S. her. erbier. 

Heer-agayns, adv., against this, Herbergage, n., lodging, abode. 

in reply to this. A. S. her — 0. F. 

ongeanes. Herberwe, n., harbor, lodging, 
Heer-tofore, adv., hitherto. A. shelter. 0. N. herbergi. 

S. her-t5-fore. Her-by, adv., with respect to 
Heet, v., pret. sing., see Hote. this matter, hence. A. S. 

Heeth, n., heath. A. S. hse'S. her — bi. 

Hegge, n., hedge. A. S. hecg. Herd, /). p., see Here. 

Heigh, adj., high, lofty. A. S. Herde, n., shepherd, herd, keeper 

heah. See Heye, Hy. of cattle. A.S.heorde. 

Heighe, adv., high. Herde, v., pret. see Here. 

Heighly, adv., strongly. A. S. Herde-gromes, n., plu., herds- 

healice. men. 



458 



GLOSSARY 



Here, pron., her. A. S. hiere, 
hire. 

Here, v., hear. A. S. hieran. 

Here, adv., see Heer. 

Here and howne, perhaps gentle 
and savage: i. e., one and 
all. 

Hereos, n.: according to Medieval 
science, the specific name for 
a malady of love. 

Herie, v., praise, worship. A. S. 
herian. 

Herines, Erinyes: the Furies. 

Herke, v., hearken. 

Herkne, v., hearken, listen. A, 
S. hercnian. 

Hermes Ballenus: Hermes* 
Belinous — Hermes Trisme- 
gistus was the fabled founder 
of alchemy, from whom a certain 
Belinous professed to have 
learned the art of talismans. 
Belinous so far has not been 
satisfactorily indentified. 

Hermyte, n., hermit. 0. F. 
hermite. 

Herneys, n., see Harneys. 

Herodes, Herod. 

Heroun, n., heron. 0. F. hairon. 

Hert, n., hart. A. S. heort. 

Herte, n., heart. A. S. heorte. 

Herte, v., pret., hurt. From 
Hurte. O. F. hurter. 

Herte-blood, n., heart's blood. 
A. S. heorte— blod. 

Hertelees, adj., heartless, lack- 
ing in courage. 

Hertely, adv., heartily, thor- 
oughly. 

Herte-spoon, n., the concave 
part of the breast, the breast 
bone. A. S. heorte — spon. 

Hertly, adj., hearty, honest. 

Heryinge, s., praising, glory. 
See Herie. 

Heste, n., behest, command- 
ment. A. S. hses /. 

Hester, Esther. 

Hete, n., heat. A. S. habto. 

Hete, v., promise, vow. A, S. 
hatan. See Hote. 

Hethen, adj., heathen. A. S, 
hsetSen. 



Hethenesse, n., heathen lands. 
A. S. haeSennes /. 

Hette, v., pret. sing., heated, 
inflamed. From Hete. A. S. 
hsetan. 

Heve, v., heave, lift. A. S. 
hebban. 

Heved, n., see Heed. 

Hevene, n., heaven. A. S. heo- 
fon. 

Hevenish, adj., heavenly. 

Hevenly, adj., heavenly. A. S. 
heofonlic. 

Hevinesse, n., sorrow, sadness. 
A. S. hefignes /. 

Hevy, adj., heavy. A. S. hefig. 

Hewe, n., hue, color, com- 
plexion. A. S. heow. 

Hewed, adj., colored, hued. 

Heye, adj., see Heigh. 

Heyghe, adv., see Heighe. 

Heynous, adj., heinous, hateful. 
0. F. heinos. 

Heyr, n., heir. 0. F. heir. 

Heyre, adj., made of hair. Cf. 
O. F. haire; A. S. hser. 

Heysugge, n., hedge-sparrow. 
A. S. heges-sugge. 

Hider, adv., hither. A. S. 

Hidous, adj., hideous. O. F. 

Hidously, adv., hideously, ter- 
ribly. 

Hierdes, n., shepherdess, female 
guardian. 

Hight, p. p.; Highte, v., pret.; see 
Hote. 

Highte, n., height. A. S. heah(5u. 

Hil, n., hill. A. S. hyll. 

Hild, v., pret. sing., see Helde. 

Hinde, n., hind. A. S. hind /. 

Hindreste, adj., superl., hind- 
most. 

Hipes, n., plu., hips. A. S. hype. 

Hir, pron., her (A.S. hiere, hire) ; 
their {A. S. hiera, hira). 

Hires, pron., hers. 

His, pron., his; its. A. S. 

Hit, pron., it. A. S. 

Ho, n., ho: exclamation com- 
manding silence; stop, cessa- 
tion. 

Hogges, n., gen. sing., hog's; plU., 
hogs. A. S. ' 



GLOSSARY 459 

Holde, v., hold, keep, preserve, Hose, n., hose, covering for the 

esteem, consider. A. S. heal- feet and legs. A. S. hose. 

dan. Holde in honde, delude Host, Hoste, n., host {of an inn), 

with false hopes, cajole. keeper of lodgings. O. F. oste. 

Holm, n., holm-oak. Hostel, n., hostelry. 0. F. 

Holowe, adj. J see Holwe. Hostelrye, n., hostelry, inn. 

Holownesse, n., hoUowness, O. F. hostelerie. 

concavity. Hostiler, n., hostler, innkeeper. 

Holsom, adj., wholesome, heal- O. F, hosteller. 

ing. A. S. hal — sum. Hote, adv., hotly. A. S, hate. 

Holt, n., wood. A. S. holt. Hote, v., command, promise, be 

Holwe, ad;'., ac?y., hollow. A. S. called, be named. yl.^S.hatan. 

holh. Hottes, n., plu., baskets carried 

Hom, n., see Hoom. on the back. O. F. hotte. 

Homicyde, n., murderer; murder. Hound, n., dog. A. S. hund. 

F. Houpe, v., whoop. 0. F. houper. 

Hond, n., hand. ^. »S^. Bereon Houre, n., hour. O. F. hore. 

honde, see Bere. Holde in Houre inequal, unequal hour: 

honde, see Holde. according to astrology an hour 

Honest, adj., creditable, honor- formed by dividing the dura- 

able, worthy. O. F, honeste. tion of the daylight by twelve. 

Honestee, n., honor, goodness. Hous, n., house. A. S. hus. In 

O. F. honeste. astronomy and astrology a 

Honge, v., hang, vacillate, de- "hous" was either a division 

pend. A. S. hon; hangian. (a twelfth) of the whole celestial 

Honurable, adj., honorable. F. sphere, or any of the zodiacal 

honorable. signs regarded as the domain 

Hony, n., honey. A. S. hunig. of a particidar planet. 

Hood, n., hood. A. S. hod. Housbonde, n., husband. A. S. 

Such game fonde they in hir husbonda. 

hode, such sport they found Housbondrye, n., husbandry, 

in their hoods: i. e., such fun economy. 

they made of them. Hove, v., hover, dwell, wait. 

Hoodless, adj., without a hood. Howne, see Here and howne. 

Hool, n., hole, A. S. hoi. Howve, n., hood. A. S. hufe. 

Hool, adj., whole, sound, per- Huberd, Hubert. 

feet. A.'S. hal. Hugh of Lincoln: a boy supposed 
HooUy, adv., wholly. to have been murdered by the 
Hoom, n., home. A. S. ham. Jews at Lincoln in 1255. 
Hoomlinesse, n., homeliness, Humanitee, n., humanity, kind- 
domesticity, ness. F. humanite. 
Hoomward, adv., homeward. A. Humbiely, adv., humbly. 

S. hamweard. Humblesse, n., humility, meek- 

Hoor, adj., hoary, white-haired. ness. O. F. 

A. S. har. Humbling, n., rumbling, low 

Hoost, n., army. 0. F. host. growl. 

Hoot, adj., hot. A. S. hat. Humilitee, n., humility. 0. F, 

Hope, n., hope. A. S. hopa. humilite. 

Hoppe, v., hop, dance. A. S. Humme, v., hum. 

hoppian. Humoiir, n., humor. A. F, 

Hord, n., hoard, treasure. A. S. Hunte, n., hunter, huntsman. 

Hors, n., horse. A. S. A. S. hunta. 

Hors, adj., hoarse. A. S. has. Hunteresse, n., female hunter. 



460 



GLOSSARY 



Hurtle, v., push, attack. 

Hust, p. p., hushed. 

Hy, adj., see Heigh, Heye. 

Hyde, v., hide. A. S. hydan. 

Hye, n., haste. 

Hye, adv., high, aloft. 

Hye, v., hie, hasten. A. S. 

higian. 
Hyer, adj., compar., higher. See 

Hy. 
Hyest, adj., superl., highest. See 

Hy. 
Hyne, n., hind, servant, peasant. 

A. S. hina. 
Hyre, n., hire, meed, payment. 

A. S. hyr /. 
Hyre, v., hire. A. S. hyrian. 
Hyve, n., hive. A. S. hyf /. 

I {the vowel) 

Ich, pron., I. 

I-comen, p. p., come. 

Ignoraunce, n., ignorance. F. 
ignorance. 

I-graunted, p. p., granted. See 
Graunte. 

Ilioun, Ilion: the Greek name for 
Troy, hut occasionally used by 
Medieval writers to refer to the 
citadel alone. 

like, adj., same, very. A. S. 
ilea. 

Illusioun, n., illusion. O. F. illu- 
sion. 

Imaginacioun, n., imagination, 
fancy. 0. F. imaginacion. 

Importable, adj., unendurable. 
0. F. 

Impressioun, n., impression, no- 
tion. F. impression. 

In, n., inn, lodging, dwelling. 
A. S, 

In principio: the text "In prin- 
cipio erat verbum " (John i, 1), 
which the begging friars fre- 
quently used. 

Inche, n., inch. A. S. ynce. 

Inde, India. 

Inequal, adj., unequal. L. in- 
aequalis. Houre inequal, see 
Houre. 

Infect, adj., invalid, of no efifect. 
L. infectus. 



Infinit, adj., infinite. O. F, 
Infortune, n., misfortune. F, 
Infortuned, p. p., ill-starred. 

O. F. infortuner. 
Inhelde, v., pour in, infuse. 

See Helde. 
Iniquitee, n., iniquity, injustice. 

O. F. iniquite. 
In-knette, v., pret. sing., knit 

up, drew in. A. S. in — cn3rt- 

tan. See Knitte. 
Inly, adv., inwardly, extremely, 

wholly. A. S. inlice. 
Inmid, prep., into, amid. 
Inmortal, adj., immortal. L. im- 

mortalis. 
Inne, adv., in, within. A. S. 
Inned, p. p., housed, lodged. 

A. S. innian. 
Intellect, n., intelligence. L. 

intellectus. 
Invocacioun, n., invocation. O. 

F. invocacion. 
In- with, adv., within, in. 
Ipocrisye, n., hyprocrisy. 0. F, 

ypocrisie. 
Iren, n., iron. A. S. 
Isaude, Iseult. 
Isaye, Isaiah. 
Isidis, Isis. 
Isoude, see Isaude. 
Itaile, Itaille, Italy. 
Ivy-leef, n., ivy leaf. A. S. 

ifig — ^leaf. 

I (for J), 
lade, n., jade, worn-out horse, 
lakke Straw, Jack Straw: leader 

of the London uprisings in 

1381. 
lalous, adj., jealous. O. F, 
lalousye, n., jealousy. O. F, 

jalousie, 
lane, n., a small coin of Genoa 

used in England. O. F. janne. 
Jangle, v., chatter, prate. 0. F. 

jangler. 
langler, n., story-teller, jester, 

babbler. O. F. jangleor. 
langleresse, n., (female) prat- 
tler, chatterbox. 0. F. 
langlerye, n., chatter, gossip. 

O. F. janglerie. 



GLOSSARY 461 

langles, n., plu., idle pratings, Keep, n., care, heed, notice. 

disputes. O. A jangle. Kembe, y., comb. ^.*S. cemban. 

lape, n., jest, trick. Kempe, adj., shaggy, rough. 

lape, v., jest. Ken, n., kin, kindred. A. S. 

lasprs, n., jasper. 0. F. cynn. See Kinnes. 

leet, n., jet. O. F. jet. Kene, adj., keen, eager, bold, 

leremye, Jeremiah. A. S. cene. 

let, n., fashion, mode. O. F. get. Kenne, v., perceive, discern, 

lewerye, Jewish kingdom, Jew- A. S. cennan. 

ish quarter. Kepe, v., keep, take care of, re- 

logelour, n., juggler. 0. F. gard. A. S. cepan. 

jogeler. Keper, n., keeper, 

lolif, adj., jovial, joyful, merry. Kerve, v., carve, cut. A. S, 

O. F. ceorfan. 

lolitee, n., jollity, sport, merri- Kerver, n., carver. 

ment. O. F. jolite. Kerving-tolis, n., plu., tools to 

loly, adj., jolly, joyous, merry. cut with. — A. S. tol. 

0. F. joli. Kesse, v., kiss. A. S. cyssan. 

lompre, p., jumble. Kevere, v., cover, recover. O. F. 

lonathas, Jonathan. covrir. 

lournee, n., day's work, day's Keye, n., key. A. S. cabg f. 

march, journey. 0. F. jornee. Kidde, v., pret., see Kythe. 

lovinian, Jovinian. See Seint Kinde, n., nature, kind, race, 

Jerome. bent. A. S. cynd (neuter); 

lowes, n., plu., jaws. gecynd /. 

loye, n., joy. O. F. joie. Kinde, adj., kind, natural. A. S. 

loynant, pres. partic, adjoining. cynde. 

loyne, v., join. O. F, joindre. Kindely, Kindeliche (weak)^ adj., 

luge, n., judge. O. F. natural. A. S. cyndelic. 

luge, v., judge. O. F. jugier. Kandely, Kindeliche, adv., nat- 

lugement, n., judgment, de- urally. A. S. cyndelice. 

cision. 0. F. Kinnes, n., gen., kind's, A. S. 

lugge, v., see luge. cynn. See Ken. 

lulius, Julius Caesar. Kinrede, n., kindred, family, 

luparte, v., imperil, endanger. A. S. cynrseden. 

lupartye, v., jeopardy, peril, Kirtel, n., kirtle. A. S. cyrtel. 

hazard. O. F. jeu parti. Kitte, v., pret. sing., cut. Fro7n 

lust, adj., just, exact, correct. Cutte. 

F. juste. Knakkes, n., plu., tricks, 

luste, v., just, tourney. 0. F. Knarre, n., knotted thickset 

jouster. fellow, sturdy churl, 

lustes, n., plu. as sing., just. Knarry, adj., gnarled. 

tournament. 0. F. juste. Knave, n., boy, servant-lad. A. 

lustyce, lustyse, n., justice, S. cnafa. Knave child, male 

judgment. 0. F. justice, jus- child. 

tise. Knele, v., kneel. A. S. cneow- 

luwyse, n., justice, judgment, lian. 

sentence. O. F. juise. Knette, v., knit, join, A. S. 

cnyttan. 

K Knighthede, 7i., knighthood. 

Kalendes, n., plu., calends: so Knitte, v., see Knette. 

beginning, A. S. calend. Knobbes, n., plu., knobs. 

Karf, v., pret. sing., see Kerve. Knok, n., knock. 



462 GLOSSARY 

Knotte, n., knot, difficulty, gist Lasshe, n., lash. 

of a tale. A. S. cnotta. Lat, v., imper., see Lete. 

Knotteles, adj., without a knot. Late, adv., lately. A. S. 

Knotty, adj., covered with knots. Late, v., let. A. S. Isetan. 
Know, n., knee. A. S. cneow. See Lete. 

Knyf, n., knife. A. S. cnif. Lathe, n., barn. O. N. hlaSa. 

Konninge, s., cunning, skill. A, Latis, n., lattice. F, lattis. 

S. cunnan. Latoun, n., latten: a brasslike 
Kukkow, n., see Cukkow. alloy. O. F. laton. 

Kunnmge, s., see Konninge. Laude, n., praise, honor. O. F. 

Kyn, n., plu., kine, cows. Laudomia, Laodamia. 

Kynde, n., see Kinde. Launce, v., fling oneself, leap, 
Kyndely, adj., see Kindely. prance. 0. F. lander. 

Kyte, n., kite: a bird of the hawk Launde, n., grassy clearing, 

family. A. S. cyta. glade. O. F. lande. 

Kythe, v., show, make known. Laure, n., laurel-tree. O. F. 

A. S. cySan. Laureat, adj., laureate, crowned 

with laurel. L. laureatus. 

^ Laurer, n., laurel-tree. 0. F. 
Laas, n., see Las. laurier. 

Lad, p. p., see Lede. Lauriol, n., spurge-laurel. F, 
Lade, v., load, cover. A. S. laureole. 

hladan. Lavyne, Lavinia. 

Ladel, n., ladle. A. S. hlaedel. Lawe, n., law. A. S. lagu. 

Lak, n., want, defect, blame. Laxatyf, n., laxative. F. laxatif. 

Lakke, v., find fault with, dis- Lay, n., song, lay. O. F. lai. 

parage, blame. Lay, n., law, faith, belief. A. F. 
Lamentacioun, n., lamentation. lei. 

F. lamentation. Layser, n., leisure. 0. F. leisir. 
Lameth, Lamech {Genesis iv and See Leyser. 

v). Lazar, n., leper. 

Lamuel, Lemuel, ^Ae Km^ (Pro- Leche, n., physician. A.S.labce. 

verbs xxxi, i). Lechecraft, n., art of medicine. 
Langage, n., language. F. A. S. Isececraeft. 

Languisshe, v., languish, fail. Lecherye, n., lechery. 0. F. 

F. languir. lecherie. 

Lanterne, n., lantern. F. Lechour, n., lecher. 0. F. 
Lapidaire, n., lapidary: a treatise lecheor. 

dealing with precious stones. F. Lede, v., lead. A. S. Isedan. 

Lappe, n., flap, fold, edge of a Ledere, n., leader. 

garment, wrapper. A. S. Leed, n., lead. A. S. lead. 

laeppa. Leef, adj., lief, dear. A. S. leof. 

Large, adj., large, wide, free; Leef, n., leaf. A. S. leaf. 

adv., widely, freely. O. F. Leef, v., imper., see Leve. 

At thy large, at large. Leek, n., leek. A. S. leac. 

Largely, adv., fully. Leen, v., imper, see Lene. 

Largesse, n., liberality, bounty. Lees, n., deceit, fraud. 

0. F. Lees, v., pret. sing., seeLese. 

Larke, n., lark. A. *S'. lawerce. Leeste, adj., superl., least. A.S, 
Las, n., lace, snare, band. 0. F. Isesest. 

laz. Leet, v., pret. sing., see Lete. 

Lasse, adj., compar., less. A. S. Legende, n., legend. O. F. 

leessa. Lekes, n,, plu., see Leek. 



GLOSSARY 463 

Lemes, n., ylu., flames. A. S. Leve, v., believe. A. S. lefan. 

leoma. Leve, v., allow. A, S. lefan. 

Lene, adj., lean, thin. A. S. Lever, adj., compar., liefer, 

hleene. dearer. 

Lene, ?'., lend, give. ^ . *S^. Isenan. Levest, adj., superl., dearest, 
Lenger, ar//., compar., longer. A. most desirable. 

S. lengra. Lewed, adj., ignorant, unlearned, 
Lenger, adv., compar., longer. rude. A. S. Isewed. 

Lengest, adv., superl., longest. Lewedly, adv., ignorantly, simply. 

Lengthe, n., length. A. S. Lewednesse, n., ignorance, ig- 

leng'5 /. norant behavior. 

Lente, n., Lent. A. S. lencten. Ley, v., pret. sing., see Lye. 

Leoun, n., lion. F. lion. Leye, v., lay, lay a wager. A. S. 
Lepart, n., leopard. O. F. lie- lecgan. 

part. Leyser, n., see Layser. 

Lepe, v., leap, run. A. S. hlea- Libertee, n., liberty. F. liberte. 

pan. Libye, Lybia. 

Lepe: a tovjn in Spain. Licentiat, adj., one licensed by 
Lere, v., teach, learn. A. S. the Pope to hear confessions 

laran. and administer penance in all 

Lered, adj., learned. A. S. places, independently of the 

Isered. local authorities. L. L. 

Leme, v., learn. A. S. leomian. Liche, adv., alike. A. S. gelice. 

Lese, n., pasture. A. S. labs f. Liche-wake, n., watch over a 
Lese, v., lose. A. S. leosan. corpse. A. S. lie — wacu. 

Lesinge, n., falsehood, lie. A. Licour, n., moisture, hquor, 

S. leasung/. juice. 0. F. licur. 

Lesse, adj., compar., see Lasse. Lief, adj., see Leef. 

Lessoun, n., lesson. F. legon. Lige, adj., liege. O. F. liege. 

Lest, n., pleasure, desire, in- Ligge, v., lie, recline, remain. 

clination. yl.^S. lyst. iSeeList, A. S. licgan. 

Lust. Lighte, v., to make light, re- 
Lest, v., pres. sing., impers., joice, to feel light, to illu- 

pleases; Leste, pres. subj., minate. A. S. lihtan. 

please. ^.>S. lystan. /S^ee List, Lighte, v., alight. A. S. lihtan. 

Luste. Lighter, adv., co^npar., more 
Leste, adj., superl., see Leeste. readily. 

lueiyV.,pres.sing.;p.p.',see'LQiiG. Lightles, adj., deprived of light. 

Lete, Lethe. Lightnesse, n., lightness, bright- 
Lete, v., let, leave, forsake, per- ness. 

mit. A. S. laetan. Let calle, Ligne aloes, n., wood of the 

cause to be called. aloe. 0. F. lignaloes. 

Lette, n., hindrance, delay. Ligurge, Lycurgus. 

Lette, v., hinder, prevent, thwart. Likerous, adj., lecherous, wan- 

A. S. lettan. ton. 

Lettow, Lithuania. Lilie, n., lily. A. S. 

Lettre, n., letter. 0. F. letre. Lilting-hom, n., horn to be 
Letuarie, n., electuary, remedy. played for a lilt. — A.*S^. horn. 

0. F. letuaire. Lim, n., limb. A. S. lim. 

Leve, n., leave, permission. A. Limitour, n., limiter: a friar 

S. leaf /. licensed to beg for alms within 

Leve, v., leave, forsake, leave certain bounds. 

off. A. S. Isefan. Limmes, n., plu., see Lim. 



464 GLOSSARY 

Linage, n., lineage, race, fam- "Troiani belli scriptorem, 

ily. F. lignage. maxime Lolli, 

Lind, n., lime-tree. A. S. lind. Dum tu declamas Romse, 

Linian, Giovanni di Lignano: Praeneste relegi." 

Professor of Canon Law at Lond, n,, land. A. S. 

Bologna in ijdj, died in 1383. Longe, adj., long, tall. A. S. 

Lippe, n., lip. A. S. lippa. lang. 

Lipse, v., lisp. Longe, adv., long, for a long 

Lisse, n., comfort, joy, solace. time. A, S. lange. 

A. S. liss /. Longe, v., desire, long for. A. S. 

Lisse, v., alleviate, soothe. A. S, langian. 

lissian. Longe, v., belong, befit, concern. 

List, n., pleasure, will. A./S. lyst. Loos, n., praise, renown. O. F. 

See Lest, Lust. los. 

List, n,, ear. A. S. hlyst. Loos, adj., loose. 

List, v., pres. sing., impers., Looth, adj., loath, odious. A. S. 

pleases. Liste, pret. sing.; laS. 

subj. A. S. lystan. See Lest. Looth, adv., with dishke. 

Luste. Lordings, n., plu., sirs. 

Listes, n., phi., lists, place of Lordshipe, n., lordship, rank, 

tournament. authority. A. S. hlafordscipe. 
Litarge, n., litharge: ointment Lore, n., lore, teaching, in- 
prepared fro?n protoxide of struction. A. S. lar /. 

lead. F. litharge. Lore, Loren, Lorn, p. p., see 

Lite, adj., see Lyte. Lese. 

Lith, n., limb. A. S. li'5. Los, n., loss. A. S. 

Liveree, n., livery. F. livree. Losenges, n., plu., lozenges: 

Lodemenage, n., pilotage. small diamond-shaped shields. 

Lode-sterre, n., lodestar, polar F. losange. 

star. A.SAadf. — steorra. Losengour, n., flatterer. O. F. 

Lofte, n., dot., loft, upper room. losengeur. 

Cf. O. N. lopt. On lofte, in Loses, n., plu., see Loos. 

the air. Loth, Lot. 

Logge, n., lodge, resting-place. Loth, adj., see Looth. 

0. F. loge. Lothest, adj., superl., see Looth. 

Logging, n., lodging. Loude, ac/y., loudly. A.S.hliide. 

Logik, n., logic. F. logique. Lough, v., pret. sing., laughed. 

Loke, v., ^veak, lock up. From Laughe. A. ;S^. hliehhan. 

Loke, v., look, discern. A. S. Lous, adj., see Loos adj. 

locian. Loute, v., bow, stoop, do obei- 

Loken, p. p., locked up. From sance. A. S. liitan. 

Louke. A. S. lucan. Lovedayes, n., plu., days for 

Loking, n., look, gaze, settling disputes by arbitra- 

Lokkes, n., locks of hair. A. S, tion. 

locc. Loveknotte, n., love-knot. A. S. 

Lollius: a name which Chaucer lufu — cnotta. 

seems to have taken as that of a Lovere, n., lover. 

writer of a Trojan history. Lowe, adj., low, humble; adv., 

No such writer is known to low, humbly. 

have existed; but perhaps the Luce, n., luce, pike. O. F. luz. 

idea arose from a misunder- Lucina: a name of Diana; the 

standing of the lines in moon. 

Horace: Lucye, Lucia. 



GLOSSARY 



465 



Lufsom, adj., lovely, lovablo. 

A. S. lufsum. 
Lulle, v., lull, soothe. 
Lust, n., pleasure, amusement, 

desire. A. S. See Lest, List. 
Luste, v., please. A. S. lystan. 

See Lest, List. 
Lustihede, n., delight, enjoy- 
ment. 
Lustily, adv., gaily, merrily. 
Lustinesse, n., pleasure, jollity. 
Lusty, adj., pleasant, gay. 
Luxurie, n., lechery. O. F. 
Lyde, Lydia. 
Lye, n., lie, falsehood. A. S. 

lyge. 
Lye, v., lie, recline, remain. 

A. S. licgan. See Ligge. 
Lye, p., tell lies, lie. A. S. leogan. 
Lyere, ?i., liar. 
Lyes, n., plu., lees, dregs. F, 

lie. 
Lyeys, formerly Layas, now Ayas, 

i7i Armenia. 
Lyf, n., life. A. S. lif. 
Lyfly, adv., in a lifelike way. 

A. S. liflic. 
Lyk, adj., like. A. S. gelice. 
Lyke, v., impers., please. A. S, 

lician. 
Lyklihede, n., likelihood. 
Lyklinesse, n., probability. 
Lykly, adj., likely. 
Lykne, v., liken, compare. 
Lyknesse, n., parable. A, S. 

gelicnes /. 
Lyma, Lima : an error for Livia, who 

poisoned her husband Drusus at 

the instigation of Sejanus. 
Lyme, v., cover with birdlime. 
Lymere, n., bitch-hound held 

in leash. 0. F. limiere. 
Lymote, possibly Elymas the 

sorcerer (Acts xiii, 8). 
Lyne, n., line. A. S. line. 
Lyned, p. p., lined. 
Lyoun, n., see Leoun. 
Lystow, v., pron., second pers. 

sing., pres. indie, see Lye. 
Lytargye, n., lethargy. 0. F. 

litargie. 
Lyte, Lytel, adj., little, small. 

A. S. lytel. 



Lyte, adv., little. A. S. lyteL 
Lyth, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

indie., see Lye. 
Lythe, adj., easy, soft. A. S. 

liSe. 
Lythe, v., alleviate, cheer. A. S. 

libian. 
Lyve, n., dat., see Lyf. 
Lyyes, n., gen., see Lyf. As adv., 

in life, living. 

M 

Maad, p. p., see Make. 

Maat, adj., dejected, exhausted, 
defeated, checkmate. O. F. 
mat. 

Macedo, the Macedonian. 

Macrobie, Macrobius: Roman 
writer (fl. c. 400 A. D.), author 
of a commentary on the Som- 
nium Scipionis from the De 
Republica of Cicero. In the 
Somnium Scipionis Scipio 
Africanus Minor dreams that 
his grandfather shows him the 
universe and tells him. how it 
is constituted. Macrobius was 
generally thought to be the author 
of the vision as well as of the com- 
mentary. 

Madde, v., go mad, be furious. 

Magicien, n., magician. F. 

Magik, Magyk, n., magic. 0. F, 
magique. 

Maille, n., mail, ringed armor. 
F. 

Maister, n., master. 0. F. 
maistre. 

Maisterful, adj., masterful. 

Maister-strete, n., main street. 
O. F. maistre—^. S. strset/. 

Maistow, v., pron., second pers. 
sing., pres. indie, mayest thou. 
See Mowe. 

Maistresse, n., mistress. O. F, 

Maistrye, n., mastery, great 
skill, control, superiority. 0, 
F. maistrie. 

Make, n., mate, equal. A. S. 
maoa. 

Make, v., make, compose, cause, 
write. A. S. macian. 

Makelees, adj., peerless. 



466 GLOSSARY 

Making, s., composition. A. S. the name in Dante, and took it 

macian. to he feminine. 

Maladye,n., malady. F.maladie. Marcial, adj., pertaining to war, 

Malapert, adj., forward. O. F. warlike. F. martial. 

Male, n., bag, wallet. O. F. Marcian, Martianus Capella: 

Malencolye, n., see Melancolye. a satirist of the fifth century 

Malencolyk, adj., melancholy. A. D. who wrote the De Nup- 

See Colera. tiis inter Mercuriam et Philo- 

Malle, Moll. logiam, a treatise on the Seven 

Malt, v., pret. sing., melted. Liberal Arts with an allegorical 

From Melte. A. S. meltan. setting. 

Manace, n., menace, threat. Mariage, n., marriage. F. 

F. menace. Maried, v., pret., caused to be 

Manace, v., threaten, O. F. married. From Marie. F. 

menacier. marier. 

Maner, n., manor, place to Mark, n., mark, image, race. 

dwell in. O. F. manoir. A. S. mearc. 

Maner, n., see Manere. Mark, n., mark: jnece of money, 

Manere, n., manner, method, of the value of ijs. 4d. A. S. 

way. A. F. Maner, kind, marc. 

sort (often used without of Markis, n., marquis. O. F. 

following, as in maner wight). Markisesse, n., marchioness. 

Manes: shades of the dead. The Marte, Mars. 

idea that they are the 'gods of Martir,n., martyr. ^ . *S^. martyr. 

pain' is borrowed from Virgil, Martirdom, n., martyrdom. A, 

^neid vi, 743. S. martyr — dom. 

Manhede, n., manhood. Martyre, n., martyrdom, O. F. 

Mankynde, n., mankind. See martire. 

Kynde. Mary, n., marrow, pith. A. S, 

Manly, adv., in a manly way. mearg. 

Mannes, n., gen., man's. A. S. Mary-bones, n., plu., marrow- 
man, bones. A. S, mearg — ban. 
Mansioun, n., dwelling, (as- Mase, n., maze, bewilderment. 

trologically) the position of a Mased, p. p., bewildered, 

planet (see Hous). 0. F. stunned. 

mansion. Masednesse, n., amaze. 

Manslaughtre, n., manslaughter. Masoneries, n., plu., masonry. 

Mansuete, adj., courteous. L. F. mafonnerie. 

mansuetus. Masse, n., mass, liturgy of the 

Mantel, n., mantle, cloak. O. F. Eucharist. A. S. maesse. 

Mantelet, n., short mantle. F. Massedayes, n., pin., massdays. 

Manye, n., mania. F. manie. A. S. maessedaeg. 

Mapul, n., maple. A. S. mapul- Massinisse, Masinissa: King of 

(treow). Numidia. 

Marbel,n., marble, O.F. marble. Masty, adj., fattened (on mast). 

Marbul-stones, n., plu., blocks Mat, adj., see Maat. 

of marble. O. F. marble — Matere, n., matter, affair, sub- 

A. S. Stan. ject. 0. F. 

Marchant, n., merchant, O. F. Maudelayne, (St.) Magdalen. 

MsLTciaj MsLTsyas: the satyr whom Maugre, Maugree, prep., in 

Apollo defeated in a trial of spite of. 0. F. maugre. 

musical skill, and afterwards Maunciple, n., manciple: an 

flayed alive, Chaucer found o^icer who purchased victuals 



GLOSSARY 



467 



for an inn or college. O. F. 

manciple. 
May, n., maiden. A. S. maeg. 
Mayde, Mayden, n., maid, 

maiden. A. S. maegden. 
Maydenhede, n., maidenhood, 

virginity. 
Mayle, n., see Maille. 
Mayntene, v., maintain. F. 

maintenir. 
Mayster-hunte, n., chief hunts- 
man. O. F. maistre — A. S. 

hunta. 
Maystow, v., pron., seeond pers. 

sing., ])rcs. indie, mayest thou. 

See Mowe. 
Mede, n., mead, meadow. A. S. 

msed /. 
Mede, n., meed, reward, bribe. 

A. S. med /. 
Medle, v., mingle, mix. O. F. 

medler. 
Medlee, adj., medley, of a 

mixed color. O. F. 
Meel, n., meal. A. S. msel. 
Meel-tyde, n., meal-time. A. S. 

mael— tid /. 
Meeth, n., see Meth. 
Megera, Megaera: one of the 

Furies. 
Meke, adj., meek. 
Mekely, adv., meekly, 
Meknesse, n., meekness. 
Melancolious, adj., melancholy. 

O. F. melancolieus. See Mel- 

ancolye. 
Melancolye, n., melancholy. 0. 

F. melancolie. See Colera. 
Melodye, n., melody. 0. F. 

melodie. 
Membre, n., limb, member. F. 
Memoire, Memorie, n., mem- 
ory, remembrance, conscious- 
ness. O. F. 
Mencioun, n., mention. 0. F. 

mention. 
Mene, adj., mean, middle, in- 
termediate. 0. F. meiien. 
Mene, n., means, intermediary, 

middle course, way. 0. F. 

meiien. 
Mene, v., mean, say, signify. 

A, S. msenan. 



Mennes, n., plu., gen., men's. 
A. S. man. 

Menstralcyes, n., plu., min- 
strelsies. A. F. menestralsie. 

Mente, v., pret. see Mene. 

Mercenarie, n., hireling. L. 
mercenarius. 

Mercenrike, the kingdom of 
Mercia. 

Merciable, adj., merciful. O. F. 

Mercy, n., mercy. O. F. merci. 
Graunt mercy, see Graunt. 

Mere, n., mare. A. S. mere. 

Meriely, adv., merrily. 

Merlioun, n., merlin, small hawk. 
O. F. esmerillon. 

Mermayde, n., mermaid. A. S. 
mere— maegden. 

Mervaille, Mervayle, Merveille, 
n., marvel. O. F. merveille. 

Merveillous,ac?j., marvelous. O. 
F. merveillos. 

Merye, adj.,^ merry, gay, glad. 
A. S. mirige. 

Meryte, n., merit, desert. 0. F. 

Meschaunce, n., mischance, mis- 
fortune. 0. F. mescheance. 
With meschaunce, with bad 
luck (often as a curse: bad 
luck take him!) 

Meschief, n., mischief, mis- 
fortune, trouble. 0. F. 

Message, n., message, errand; 
messenger. O. F. 

Messager, n., messenger. 0. F. 
messagier. 

Messagerye, n., the sending of 
messages. O. F. messagerie. 

Messe-dayes, n., see Masse- 
dayes. 

Messenus, Misenus: companion 
and trumpeter to JEneas. 

Meste, adj., superl., most. A. 
S. msest. 

Mester, n., see Mister. 

Mesurable, adj., moderate. 0. F. 

Mesure, n., moderation, meas- 
ure. O. F. 

Met, v., third, pers. sing., pres. 
indie., see Mete. 

Mete, adj., meet, fitting, suit- 
able, equal. A. S. maete. 

Mete, n., meat, food. ^.*S.mete. 



468 



GLOSSARY 



Mete, v., meet. A. S. metan. 

Mete, v., dream. A. S. msetan. 

Meth, n., mead: the drink. A. 
S. meodu; 0. N. mig'Sr. 

Meting, s., dream. See Mete. 
The kinges meting Pharao, the 
dream of King Pharaoh. 

Mette, v., pret. see Mete. 

Meve, v., move, stir. 0. F. 
movoir. 

Mewe, n., mew: cooj) used for fat- 
tening foivls or for hawks while 
molting. F. mue. 

Mewet, adj., mute. O. F. muet. 

Meynee, n., household, retinue, 
company. O. F. meisnee. 

Michelmesse, Michaehnas: feast 
of St. Michael, the 2gth of Sep- 
tember. 

Middelburgh, Middelburg in Hol- 
land. 

Might, n., might, power. A. S. 
miht. 

Mighte, v., pret., see Mowe. 

Mille, n., mill. A. S. mylen. 

Millere, n., miller. 

Minde, n., remembrance, mem- 
ory, mind. A. S. gemynd /. 

Ministres, n., plu., officers. F. 
ministre. 

Minne, v., imper. sing., re- 
member, mention. A. S. 
gemynnan. 

Minstralcye, n., minstrelsy. See 
Menstralcyes. 

Mirour, n., mirror. O. F. 

Mirre, n., myrrh. 0. F. 

Mirthe, n., mirth, pleasure, joy. 
A, S. myrhS /. 

Mirtheles, adj., without mirth, 
sad. 

Mis, adj., adv., wrong, amiss. 

Misacounted, p. p., miscounted. 

Misaunter, n., misadventure, mis- 
fortune. O. F, mesaventure. 

Misboden, p. p., offered to do 
evil, insulted. A. S. mis- 
beodan. 

Miscarie, v., go amiss. O. F. 
mes — carier. 

Mischaunce, n., see Meschaunce. 

Misdeme, v., misjudge. A, S. 
mis — deman. 



Misericorde, n., mercy, pity. 

O. F. 
Miserie, n., misery. O. F. 
Misfille, v., pret., went amiss. 

From Misfalle. A. S. mis — 

feallan. 
Misforyaf, v., pret. sing., mis- 
gave. From Misforyive. See 

Yive. 
Mishappe, v., happen ill, meet 

with misfortune. 
Mislyved, p. p., of ill life. A. S. 

mis — libban. 
Mis-sat, v., pret. sing., was not 

where it should be, misbecame. 

From Mis-sitte. See Sitte. 
Misse, v., miss, fail, lack. A. S. 

missan. 
Mistake, v., transgress, trespass, 

commit an error. 0. N. 

mistaka. 
Mister, n., trade, handicraft, 

occupation. O. F. mester. 

See Mester. What mister men, 

what sort of men {of what 

trade) . 
Mistriste, v., mistrust. 
Miswent, p. p., gone amiss. 

From Miswende. A. S. mis — 

wendan. 
Miteyn, n., mitten, glove. F. 

mitaine. 
Mo, adj., compar., more, others. 

A. S. ma. 
Mo, adv., compar., more, longer. 

A. S. ma. 
Moche, Mochel, adj., much, 

great. A. S. mycel. See 

Muchel. 
Mochel, adv., much. 
Mochel, n., size. 

Moder, n., mother. A.S. modor. 
Moeble, n., movable goods, 

personal property. 0, F. 
Moever, n., mover. 
Moiste, adj., moist, supple. O. 

F. See Moyste. 
Molte, p. p., molten, melted. 

Fro7n Melte. A. S. meltan. 
Monche, v., munch. 
Mone, n., moon. A. S. mgna. 
Mone, n., moan, complaint. 
Monesteo, Mnestheus. 



GLOSSARY 469 

Moneye, n., money. O. F. Moustre, n., pattern. 0. F. 

moneie. Mowe, n., grimace, O. F. 
Monstre, n., monster. F. moe. 

Month, n., month. A . *S. monaS. Mowe, y., be able, may. A. S. 
Mooder, n., see Moder. magan. 

Moominge, s., mourning, plaint. Moyste, adj., moist, fresh. 0. 

A. S. muman. F. moiste. See Moiste. 

Moot, 71., plu., notes on a horn. Muchel, arfj., much, great. A.S. 

O. F. mot. mycel. See Moche, Mochel. 

Moot, v., pres. sing., may, must, Muchel, adv., greatly. 

shall. A. S. mot. ' Multiplicacioun, n., multiplica- 
Moralitee, n., morality, moral. tion, multiplying: the art of 

F. moralite. alchemy. F. multiplication. 

Mordre, n., murder. A. S. Multiplying, s., increase. F» 

morSor; O. F. murdre. multiplier. 

Mordre, v., murder. A. S. Murmour, n., murmur. F. muT- 

myr'Srian; cf. M. E. n. mordre. mure. 

Mordrer, n., murderer. Cf. Murthe, n., see Mirthe. 

M. E. n. mordre; A. F. mor- Murye, adj., see Merye. 

dreour. " Muse, i\, consider, gaze. O. F. 

More, adj., com/par., greater, muser. 

larger, more. A. S. mara. Musyke, n., music. F. musique. 

More, adv., more, further. Muwe, n., see Mewe. 

More, n., root. A. S. mom. Muwe, v., change. 0. F. muer. 

Mormal, n., sore, ulcer. 0. F. Myle, n., mile. A. S. mil /. 

mortmal. Myn, pron., mine. A. S. min. 

Morne, n., morning. A. S. Mynde, n., see Minde. 

morgen. Morne-milk, morn- Myne, v., undermine, mine. 

ing milk. F. miner. 

Morter, n., mortar, night-light. Mynos, Minos. 

A. S. mortere. Myre, n., mire. 0. N. myrr /. 

Mortreux, n., pottage, thick soup. Myrie, adj., see Merye. 

O. F. Myrra, Myrrha: daughter of the 
Morwe, Morwen, n., morning. King of Cyprus, ivho was 

morrow. A. S. morgen. changed into a myrrh-tree, Ovid, 

Morweninge, n., morning. Metam,, x, 2g8. 

Morwe-song, n., morning-song. Myselven, pron., myself. 

A. S. morgen — song. Myte, n., mite, thing of no value. 
Morwe-tyde, n., morning hour. O. F. mite. 

A. S. morgen — tid /. Myte, n., mite: insect. A. S, 
Mosel, n., muzzle. O. F. musel. mite. 
Moste, v., pret., see Moot. 
Moste, adv., superl., greatest. ^ 

A. S. maest. See Mo. Nabugodonosor, Nebuchadnez- 
Mot, n., atom, particle. A, S. zar. 

Mottelee, n., motley, motley Nacheveth, ne — acheveth, 

array. achieves not. — 0. F. achever. 

Motthes, n., plu., moths. A. S. Naciouns, n., plu., nations. F. 

mojjjje. nation. 

Mountance, Mountaunce, n., Naille, y., nail. ^ . ^S. naeglan. 

amount, value, quantity. O. Nakednesse, n., nakedness. 

F. montance. Nakers, n., plu., kettle-drums. 
Mous, n., mouse. A. S. mus. O. F. nacre. 



470 GLOSSARY 

Name, n., name, reputation, Negh, Neigh, adv., nearly, al- 

fame. A. S. nama. most. A. S. neah. 

Namely, adv., especially. Neighe, v., draw near. 

Namo, na — ^mo, adv., no more. Neighebour, n., neighbour. A. 

See Mo. S. neahgebur. 

Namore, adv., no more. See Nekke, n., neck. A. S. hnecca. 

More. Nekke-boon, n., neck-bone. A. 
Napoplexye, ne — apoplexye, nor *S^. hnecca — ban. 

apoplexy. — F. apoplexie. Nempne, v., name, tell. A. S. 
Narette, ne — arette, see Arette. nemnan. 

Narwe, adj., narrow, close. A. Ner, adv., compar., see Neer. 

*S. nearu. Nercotikes, n., plu., narcotics. 
Narwe, adv., narrowly, closely. F. narcotique. 

A. S. nearwe. Nere, ne — were. 

Nas, ne — was. Nerf, n., sinew. O. F. 

Nassayeth, ne — assayeth, at- Nevene, v., name. 0. N. nefna. 

tempts not. — 0. F. essaier. Nevere, adv., never. A. S. 
Nat, adv., not. naefre. 

Natal, adj., one who presides Nevere-a-del, adv., not a bit. 

over nativities. L. natalis. Nevere-mo, adv., never oftener, 
Nath, ne — hath. never, never again. 

Nathelees, adv., nevertheless. Nevere-the-lasse, adv., never- 
Nativitee, n., nativity, birth. theless. 

0. F. nativite. Nevew, n., nephew, grandson. 
Naturel, adj., natural. 0. F. A. F. nevu. 

Natyf, adj., native. 0. F. natif. Newe, adj., new, fresh. A, S. 
Navele, n., navel. A. S. nafela. neowe. 

Navye, n., navy. O. F. navie. Newe, adv., newly, freshly. A. 
Naxe, ne — axe, see Axe. S. niwe. 

Nay, adv., nay, no. O. N. nei. Newe, v., renew. A. S. niwian. 

Hit is no nay, there is no Nexte, adj., superl., nearest, 

denying it. next, last. A. S. nehst. 

Nayl, n., nail. A. S. naegl. Ney, adv., see Neigh. 

Ne, adv., conj., not, nor. A. S. Neyghebores, n., plu., see Neigh- 

ne. Ne ne, neither . . . nor. ebour. 

Nece, n., niece. O. F. niece. Nigard, n., miser, niggard. 

Necessitee, n., necessity. O. F. Nighte, v., grow dark, become 

necessite. night. 

Necgligence, n., negligence. O. Nightertale, n., night-time. 

F. negligence. Nil, Nille, v., first pers. sing., 
Nede, n., need, extremity, peril. pres. indie, will not, shall not. 

A. S. ned /. A. S. nyllan. 

Nede, adv., necessarily. Nis, ne — is. 

Nedelees, adv., needless. Niste, v., pret., see Noot. 

Nedely, adv., of necessity, nee- Nisus doughter: Scylla, who 

essarily. was changed into a lark. See 

Nedes, adv., of necessity, nee- Ovid, Metam. viii, 9-151. 

essarily, needs. Noble, n., noble: gold coin worth 
Nedes-cost, adv., of necessity. 6s. 8d. 

Neer, adv., compar., nearer, {as Noblesse, n,, nobleness, no- 

positive) near. A. S. near. bility. O. F. noblece. _ 

Neet, n., plu., neat, cattle. Nobleye, n., nobihty, dignity. 

A. S. neat. O. F. nobleie. 



GLOSSARY 



471 



Nof, conj., prep., nor of. 

Noght, ad?)., not, by no means. 
A. S. nawiht. 

Noght, n., nothing. A. S. na- 
wiht. 

Nolde, v., prel., see Nil. 

Nombre, n., number. O. F. 

Nombred, p. p:, see Noumbre. 

Nome, p. p., taken. From Nime. 
A. S. niman. Cf. Y-nome. 

Non, pron., see Noon. 

Nones, nonce. For the nones, 
for the occasion. M. E. for 
then anes; A. S. for <5am anes. 

Nonne, n., nun. A. S. nunne. 

Noon, pron., none, no. A. S. 
nan. 

Noot, v., first pcrs. sing., pres. 
indie, know not. A. S. nat. 

Norice, n., nurse. O. F. 

Norished, p. p., nourished, 
brought up. 0. F. norir. 

Norissing, ??., nutriment. 

Northfolk, Norfolk. 

Northren, adj., northern. A. S. 
noTpeme. 

Nose-thirles, n., plu., nostrils. 
A. S. nos^yrl. 

Noskinnes, for Noneskinnes, of 
no kind. 

Nost, Nostow, v., second pers. 
sing., pres. indie, knowest not, 
knowest thou not. See Noot. 

Not, v., see Noot. 

Notabilitee, n., notable fact. 0. 
F. notabilite. 

Notable, adj., notorious, re- 
markable. F. 

Note, n., musical note, tune. F. 

Not-heed, n., head with hair 
cropped short. 

Nother, conj., neither. 

Nothing, adv., in no respect. 

Nouchis, n., plu., jewelled or- 
naments. O. F. nouche. 

Nought, adv., see Noght. 

Noumbre, n., see Nombre. 

Noimibre, v., number, count. 
0. F. nombrer. 

Nouthe, adv., now then, now. 
A. S. nu Sa. 

Novelrye, n., novelty. 0. F. 
novelerie. 



Noveltee, n., novelty. 0. F. 

novelte. 
Nowher, adv., nowhere. A. S. 

nahwser. 
Noyous, adj., troublesome. O, 

F. enuius. 
Noyse, n., noise. O. F. 
Ny, adv., nigh, nearly. See 

Negh, Neigh. 
Nyce, adj., foolish, ignorant, 

finicky. O. F. nice. 
Nycely, adv., foolishly. 
Nycete, Nycetee, n., folly, sim- 
plicity, scrupulousness. 0. 

F. nicete. 
Nyne, adj., nine. A. S. nigon. 
Nynthe, adj., ninth. 

O 

O, adj., one. A. S. an. See 

On, Oo, Oon. 
Obeisant, adj., obedient. 0. F, 

obeissant. 
Obeisaunce, n., obedience. 0. 

F. obeissance. 
Observaunce, n., respect, hom- 
age, ceremony. 0. F. ob- 
servance. 
Obstinat, adj., obstinate. L. 

obstinatus. 
Octovien, Octavian. 
Of, prep., of, off; adv., off, away. 

A. S. of. 
Of-caste, v., cast off. A. S, 

of— O. AT. kasta. 
Offende, v., assail, injure. 0. F. 

offendre. 
Offensioun, n., offense, damage. 

O. F. offension. 
Offertorie, n., offertory. L. 

offertorium. 
Ofiicere, n., officer. F. officier. 
Of-newe, adv., newly, again, 

lately. A. S. of — niwe. 
Of-spring, n., offspring. A. S. 
Of-taken, p. p., taken off, taken 

away. A. S. of — tacan. 
Ofte, adv., often. A. S. oft. 
Of-thowed, p. p., thawed away. 
Oght, n., aught, anything; adv., 

aught, at all. A. S. awiht. - 
Oghte, v., pret., impers., see Owe. 
Oille, n., oil. 0. F. 



472 



GLOSSARY 



Oise: a river which flows into 
the Seine from the north not 
far below Paris. 

Oistre, n., oyster. O, F. 

Old, adj., old. A. S. eald. 

Oliver: the friend of Roland in 
the Chanson de Roland. 

Olyve, n., olive-tree. 0. F. 
olive. 

Omeer, Homer. 

On, adj., see Oon. 

Ones, adv., once, of one, united. 
A. S. anes. 

On-lofte, adv., aloft, up in the 
air. 

On-lyve, adv., ahve. A. S. on 
life. See A-ljrve. 

Oo, adj., see O. 

Ook, n., oak. A. S. ac. 

Oon, adj., one. A. S. an. See 
O, On, Oo. Oon the faireste, 
one of the fairest. Evere in 
oon, ever alike. Oon and oon, 
one by one. After oon, after 
one standard. Many oon, 
many a one. 

Ooth, n., oath. A. S, aS. 

Opie, n., opium. L. opium. 

Opinioun, n., opinion. 0. F. 
opinion. 

Opposit, n., opposite point. 0. 
F. 

Or, conj., prep., ere, before. 
A. S. ser. See Er. 

Oratorie, n., oratory: room for 
prayers. L. oratorium. 

Ordenaunce, n., ordinance, pro- 
vision, plan. O. F. ordenance. 

Ordeyne, v., determine. 0. F. 
ordener. Ordeyne, p. p., 
regulated. 

Ordinaunce, n., see Ordenaunce. 

Ordre, n., order, law, religious 
order. 0. F. Ordres foure, 
the four orders: Augustinian 
Dominican, Franciscan, and 
Carmelite Friars 

Orewelle, Orwell: the name of an 
English port in Chaucer's day, 
now Harwich. 

Orgon, n., organ. L. organum. 

Orient, n., east. F. 

Original, n., cause. O. F. 



Orion, Arion: the harper, see 
Ovid, Fasti, ii, yg-ii8. 

Orisonte, n., horizon. O. F. 
orizonte. 

Orisoun, n., prayer. O. F. orison. 

Orloge, n., clock. F. horloge. 

Ost, n., host, army. O. F. 

Otes, n., plu., oats. A. S. ate. 

Other, conj., either, or. 

Oughte, v., pret. impers., see Owe. 

Oule, n., owl. A. S. ule. 

Ounces, n., plu., small portions. 
0. F. unce. 

Ounded, p. p., wavy. F. onde. 

Oundy, adj., wavy. F. onde. 

Oure, pron., ours. A. S. ure. 

Out of, prep., without. 

Out-breste, v., burst out. See 
Breste. 

Out-bringe, v., bring out, utter. 
A. S. ut — bringan. 

Out-caughte, v., pret., caught 
out, drew out. See Cacche. 

Out-drawe, p. p., drawn out. 
A. S. ut — dragan. 

Oute, adv., out. A. S. ute. 

Outerly, adv., utterly. 

Outfleyinge, s., flying out. See 
Flee. 

Out-hees, n., hue and cry, out- 
cry. A. S. ut — ^hses. 

Outher, conj., either, or. 

Outraye, v., be outrageous, in- 
cur disgrace, lose temper. 
0. F. outreier. 

Outrely, adv., see Outerly. 

Out-rood, v., pret. sing., rode 
out. See Ryde. 

Out-ryder, n., rider abroad: 
an officer of a monastery, 
whose duty it was to look after 
the outlying manors belonging 
to it. 

Out-springe, v., spring abroad, 
come to light. A. S. ut — 
springan. 

Out-sterte, v., pret. plu., started 
out. See Sterte. 

Out-wende, v., come out, pro- 
ceed. See Wende. 

Over-al, adv., everywhere. 

Over-goon, v., pass away. See 
Goon. 



GLOSSARY 473 

Over-loked, p. p., looked over, Palestral, adj., athletic. 

perused. See Loke. Paleys, n., palace. O. F. paleis. 

Over-raughte, v., pret., reached Palfrey, n., palfrey, horse. O. F. 

over: so urged on. See Reche. palefrei. 

Over-riden, p. p., ridden over. Palladion, Palladium: an image 

See Ryde. of Pallas Athena, particularly 

Over-shake, p. p., caused to that at Troy. 

pass away, shaken off. A. S» Pan, n., brain-pan, skull. A. S. 

ofer — scacan. panne. 

Overshote, p. p., overrun the Paniers, n., plu., panniers, bas- 

scent. Froyn Overshete. A. kets for bread. F. panier. 

*S'. ofer — sceotan. Papir, n., paper. A. F. 

Over-sprat, v., pres. sing., see Par amour, see Paramour. 

Oversprede. Par cas, by chance. See Cas. 

Oversprede, v., spread over, Paradys, n., paradise. F, para- 

covcr. A. S. ofer — sprsedan. dis. 

Overt, adj., open. O. F. Paramour, by way of secular love, 

Overthwart, Overthwert, adv., for love, with devotion. 

across, yl. A?, ofer — O.N. ^vert. Paraunter, Paraventure, perad- 

Ovyde, Ovid. venture, perhaps. 

Owe, v., own, owe, possess; Pardee, interj., a common oath. 

ought; (refl.) be incumbent. 0. F. par de. 

Oghte, Oughte, pret., impers., Pardieux, interj., see Pardee. 

be necessary, was necessary. Pardoneer, n., pardoner, seller 

A. S. agan. of indulgences. O. F. par- 

Owene, adj., own. A. S. agen donier. 

(p. p.). Pardoun, n., pardon. 0. F. 

Owher, adv., anywhere. A. S. pardun. 

ahwaer. Parfey, interj., by my faith. A. 

Owle, n., see Oule. F. par fei. 

Oxe, n., ox. A. S. oxa. Parfit, adj., perfect. O. F. 

Oxenford, Oxford. Parfitly, adv., perfectly. 

Oxe-stalle, h., ox-stall. A. S. Parfoume, v., perform, fulfill. 

oxa — steall. O. F. parfoumir. 

Oynement, n., ointment. O. F. Parisshe, n., parish. 0. F. 

oignement. paroisse. 

Oynons, n., plu., onions. F. Parisshens, n., phi., parish- 

oignon. ioners. O. F. paroissien. 

Parlement, n., deliberation, par- 

P liament. O. F. 

Paas, n., see Pas. Pamaso, Parnassus. 

Pace, v., pass, go, surpass. O. F. Parodie, n., period, duration. 

passer. ^See Passe. 0. F. periode. 

Pacience, n., patience. O. F. Part, n., part, party, side. 0. F. 

Pacient, adj., patient. 0. F. Parte, v., participate in, share, 

Pacient, n., patient. O. F. depart. 0. F. partir. 

Paillet, n., pallet. F. Particuler, adj., special. F. 

Paine, n., see Peyne. particulier. 

Paire, n., pair. O. F. pair. Partrich, n., partridge. 0. F. 

Palatye, Palathia: in Asia perdriz. 

Minor. Party, adj., partly. 0. F. parti. 

Pale, n., perpendicular stripe. Partye, n., portion, part, side, 

F. pal. taker of a side. O. F. partie. 



474 GLOSSARY 

Parvys, n., church-porch. F. Perchaunce, adv., by chance. 

parvis. O. F. per — cheance. 

Pas, n., pace, step, distance. F. Perche^n. , perch (for birds). O.F. 

Passant, pres. partic, as adj., Pare, n., peer, equal. 0. F. 

surpassing. F. per. See Peer. 

Passe, v., surpass, exceed, pass. Perle, n., pearl. F. 

See Pace. Permutacioun, n., change. 0. F. 

Passioun, n., passion, suffering. permutacion. 

F. passion. Perotheus, Pirithous. 

Patente, n., patent, a letter, of Perpetuelly, adv., perpetually. 

privilege: so-called because open Perre, Perrie, Perrye, n., 

to inspection. jewellry. 0. F. pierrie. 

Patriarkes, n., plu., patriarchs. Pers, n., stuff of a sky-blue 

O. F. patriarke. color. 0. F, 

Patron, n., patron, pattern. F. Perseveraunce, n., endurance, 

Paunche, n., paunch. 0, F. constancy. 0. F. persever- 

panche. ance. 

Pawmes, n., plu., palms. F. Persone, Persoune, n., person, 

paume. figure, parson. 0. F. persone. 

Pay, n., pleasure. 0. F. paie. Persuasioun, n., persuasion, be- 

Paye, v., pay, satisfy. 0. F. lief. F. persuasion. 

paier. Pertourbe, v., perturb. 0. F. 

Payen, adj., pagan. 0. F. paien. pertourber. 

Payre, n., see Paire. Pervers, adj., perverse. F. 

Pece, n., piece. 0. F. Peter, interj., by St. Peter! 

Pecok, n., peacock. A. S. Peyne, n., pain, grief, trouble. 

pawa — coc. O. F. peine. Dyen in the 

Peer, n., peer, equal. O. F. per. peyne, to die by torture. 

See Pere. Peyne, v., take pains, endeavor. 

Pees, n., peace. O. F. pais. O. F. pener. 

Peire, n., see Paire. Peynte, v., paint. O. F. peindre. 

Pekke, v., peck, pick. Peyntour, n., painter. 0. F. 

Pel, n., peel, small castle. O. F. peintor. 

pel. Peyre, n., see Paire. 

Pelet, n., pellet, stone cannon- Pharao, Pharo, Pharoah. 

ball. F. pelote. Pheton, Phaethon. 

Pemond, Piedmont. Phillis, Phyllis. 

Penalopee, Penelope. Philosophre, n., philosopher. F, 

Penaunce, n., penance, suffer- philosophe. 

ing. O. F. penance. Philosophye, n., philosophy. 0. 

Pencel, n., pencil, brush. 0. F. F. filosofie. 

pincel. Phisicien, n., physician. 0. F, 

Pencel, n., small banner. O. F. physicien. 

penoncel. Phisik, n., physic, medicine. 

Penneus, Peneus. O. F. phisique. 

Penoun, n., pennon: small flag Phisiologus: a Latin collection 

borne at the end of a lance. of allegorical accounts of various 

0. F. penon. animals. 

Pens, n., plu., pence. Phitonesses, n., plu., python- 

Peple, n., people. 0. F. pueple. esses, witches. O. F. phitonise. 

Peraventure, adv., see Paraunter, Pietee, n., pity. 0. F. piete. 

Paraventure. Pietous, adj., piteous, sad. 0. 

Perce, v., pierce. O. F. percier. F. pietos. See Pitous. 



GLOSSARY 475 

Pigges, n., gen., pig's. Pleye, v., play, amuse oneself. 

Pighte, v., pret., pitched. A. S. plegian. 

Piled, p. p., deprived of hair, Pleyinge, s., amusement, sport. 

bare, thin (beard). A. S. A. S. plegian. 

pylian. , Pleyn, adj., full, complete; adv., 

Pileer, Pilar, n., pillar, column. fully. F. plein. 

0. F. pilar. Playn, adj., plain, clear; adv., 

Pilour, n., robber, pillager. 0. F. plainly, clearly. O. F. plain. 

pilleur. Pleyna, v., complain, lament. 

Pilwe, 71., pillow. A. S. pyle. F. plaindre. 

Pilwe-baar, n., pillow-case. Pleynly, adv., plainly, openly; 

Pinaclas, n., plii., pinnacles. fully. 

0. F. Pleyntaof Kynda://?eDe Planctu 

Pinche, v., find fault with, plait. Naturae by Alarms de Insulis. 

0. F. (pinciar). 0. F. plainte. See Aleyn. 

Pipar, n., suitable for pipes. Plighte, v., pret., plucked, pulled. 

Piramus, Pyramus. A. 8. plyccan. 

Pirous, Pyroeis: a horse in the Plighte, v., pret., plighted, 

chariot of the sun. pledged. A. S. plihtan. 

Pimis, Pyrrhus. Plukka, v., pluck, pull. A. S. 

Pistal, n., epistle, message. A. pluccian. 

S. pistol. Plye, v., ply, bend. O. F. plier. 

Pitaunce, n., pittance. 0. F. Plyght, p. p., plighted. See 

pitanca. Plighte. 

Pita, Pitea, n., pity. 0. F. Plyt, n., plight, condition, mis- 

Pitous, adj., piteous, compas- hap. O. F. ploit. 

sionate. 0. F. pitos. tSee Plyte, v., fold. 

Piatous. Poate, n., poet. O. F. poete. 

Pitously, adv., piteously, sadly. Poatrya, n., poetry. 0. F, 

Plane, n., plane. O. F. plasna. poetria. 

Planata, n., planet. 0. F. Point devys, with great neat- 

Plante, n., slip, cutting. A. S. ness, exactly. 

Plat, adj., flat, certain; adv., Pokkas, n., plu., pocks, pustules. 

flat, bluntly. F. plat. A. S. poc. 

Platly, adv., flatly, plainly. Polcat, n., polecat. — A. S. cat. 

Playn, adj., see Playn. Policya, n., public business. 

Plading, s., pleading. 0. F. policia. 

Plaa, 71., plea, pleading. 0. F. Polita, see Polyta. 

plait. Polixana, Polixana, Polyxena: 

Plantaa, n., plenitude, fulness. daughter of Pria7n. 

G. F. plante. Pollax, n., pole-axe. 

Plentavous, adj., plenteous. 0. Polynastor, Polymnastor. 

F. Polyte, Politas. 

Plesaunca, 7i., pleasure, pleasant Pomal, n., round part, top. 

thing, delight. 0. F. plaisanca. 0. F. pomal. 

Plasaunt, adj., pleasant, agree- Pomely, adj., dappled. 0. F. 

able. O. F. plaisant. pomale. 

Plase, v., please. 0. F, plaisir. Pompa, n., pomp. F. pompe. 

Plata, v., plead, argue. O. F. Pompaa, Pompay. 

plaitiar. Popat, n., puppet, doll. O. F. 

Plating, s., pleading, argument. poupetta. 

Play, n., play, sport. A. S. Popiniay, n., popinjay. O. F, 

plaga. papagai. 



476 GLOSSARY 

Popler, n., poplar-tree. 0. F. Preche, v., preach. O. F. pre- 

poplier. chier. 

Poraille, n., poor people, O. F. Precious, adj., precious, prudish, 

povraille. dainty. 0. F. precios. 

Port, n., carriage, behavior, Predestinee, n., predestination. 

bearing. F. port. F. 

Portreiture, n., drawing, picture. Predicacioun, n., preaching, 

O. F. portraiture. sermon, 0. F. predicaciun. 

Portreye, v., portray, depict. Preef, n., proof. 0. F. prueve. 

0. F. portraire. Prees, n., press, throng. O. F. 

Pose, v., suppose, put the case. presse. See Press. 

F. poser. Preest, n., priest. A. S. preost. 

Positif, adj., positive, fixed, O. Preise, v., praise, esteem. 0. F. 

F. preisier. 

Possibilitee, n., possibility. F. Prelat, n., prelate. 0. F. 

possibilite. Prescience, n., foreknowledge. 

Potage, n., broth. F. F. 

Potente, n., staff, crutch. Present, adv., immediately. 0. F. 

Pothecarie, n., apothecary. 0. Preson, n., prison. 0. F. 

F. apotecaire. Press, n., throng, press, mould. 

Pouche, n., pouch, pocket. O. F. O. F. presse. See Prees. On 

poche. presse, in a suppressed state. 

Poudre, n., powder, dust. 0. F. Prest, n., see Preest. 

poldre. Prest, adj., ready, prepared, 

Poudre-marchant, n., a kind of prompt. O. F. 

spice. 0. F. poldre — mar- Presumpcioun, n., presumption. 

chant. 0. F. presomption. 

Poun, n., pawn (at chess). Pretende, v., attempt to reach, 

O. F. paon. seek (after). F. pretendre. 

Pound, n., plu., pounds. A. S. Preve, n., proof, experience. 

pund. 0. F. prueve. See Preef. 

Poupe, v., blow, puff. Preve, v., prove, test, approve, 

Poure, v., pore, gaze steadily. show. O. F. proven 

Pous, n., pulse. O. F. Prevetee, n., secret place, re- 

Poverte, n., poverty. 0. F. cess. 0. F. privete. See 

Povertee, n., poverty. 0. F, Privetee. 

poverte. Prevy, adj., privy, secret. O. F, 

Povre, adj., poor, O. F, prive. See Privee. 

Povreliche, adj., poorly, in pov- Preye, n., prey. A. F. preie. 

erty. Preye, v., pray, beseech. O. F. 

Povrely, adv., in poor array. preier. 

Povrest, adj., superL, poorest. Preyere, n., see Prayere. 

See Povre. Preyse, v., see Preise. 

Poynaunt, adj., pungent. 0. F. Priamus, Priam. 

poignant. Priapus: the god of fruitfulness; 

Poynt, n., point, aim. 0. F. for the episode see Ovid, Fasti, 

point. i, 413. 

Poynte, v., describe. 0. F. Pricasour, n., a hard rider. 

pointier. Prike, v., spur, incite, urge, ride. 

Practisour, n., practitioner. A. S. prician. 

Praunce, v., prance, run about. Priking, s., hard riding. 

Prayere, n., prayer. 0. F. Prikke, n., point, stab. A. S. 

preiere. pricca. 



GLOSSARY 477 

Princesse, n., princess. F. Pryvee, adj., see Privee. 

Prioresse, n., prioress. O. F. Pseustis: unidentified, but per- 

Pris, n., see Prys. haps Thespis of Attica whose 

Prisoun, n., prison. F. prison. plays ivere acted at Athens 

Privee, adj., secret, private, in- (Skeat). 

timate. O. /'\prive. SeePrevy. Publiced, Publisshed, p. p., 

Privee, n., privy. proclaimed, published. O. F. 

Prively, adv., secretly. publier. 

Privetee, n., privacy, secrets, Puella: a figure in geomancy rep- 
private affairs. 0. F. privete. resenting a constellation. This 

iSee Prevetee. figure was dedicated to Venus; 

Precede, v., proceed. F. pro- perhaps confused with Puer, 

ceder. which was dedicated to Mars. 

Proces, n., process, course. O. F. See Rubeus. 

Profre, v., proffer, offer. A. F. Pull, n., a bout at wrestling, a 

Proheme, n., proem, prologue. throw. 

O. F. Pulle, v., pull, pluck. A. S. 

Proigne, Procne. pullian. Pulle a finch, pluck 

Prolixitee, n., prolixity. F. (cheat) a novice (slang). 

prolixite. Pulpet, n., pulpit. L. pulpitum. 

Prologe, n., prologue. O. F. Pultrye, n., poultry. 0. F. 

Pronounce, v., announce, pro- pouletrie. 

nounce. O. F. prononcier. Punyce, i\, punish. F. punir. 

Prophesye, n., prophecy. O. F. Purchace, v., procure, win. A. 

profecie. F. purchacer. 

Propre, adj., proper, own, Purchas, n., proceeds of beg- 

comely. O. F. ging, gain. 0. F. 

Proprely, adv., fitly, properly. Purchasing, n., conveyancing, 

Propretee, n., peculiarity, spe- acquisition of property. 

cialty, property. 0. F, prop- Purchasour, n., conveyancer. A, 

rete. F. 

Proserpyne, Proserpine. Pure, adj., very, pure, utter; adv., 

Proteccioun, n., protection. O. purely. O. F. pur. 

F. protection. Purfiled, p. p., ornamented, 

Protestacioun, n., protest. F. trimmed. 0. F. porfiler. 

protestation. Purgatorie, n., purgatory. A. F. 

Proverbe, n., proverb. 0. F. Purpos, n., purpose. O. F. 

Prow, n., profit, advantage. Purpose, v., purpose, propose. 

0. F. prou. 0. F. purposer. 

Prowesse, n., prowess, valor. Purpre, adj., purple. A. S, 

0. F. proece. purpure; O. F. purpre. 

Pruce, Pruyse, Prussia,Prussian. Purs, w., purse. A. S. 

Pryamus, Priam. Pursevauntes, n., pin., pur- 

Pryde, n., pride. A. S. pryte. suivants. O. F. pursivant. 

Prydeles, adj., without pride. Purtreye, v., see Portreye. 

Prjrme, n., prime {of day): six Purtreyour, n., draughtsman, 

to nine a. m. A. S. prim; painter, drawer. 

O. i^. prime. Half way pryme : Purveyaunce, n., providence, 

half-past seven. prescience, provision. 0. F. 

Prymer, n., primer. 0. F. purveance. 

primier. Purveye, v., provide, take pre- 

Prys, n., price, value, praise, cautions. A. F. purveier. 

esteem, glory. 0. F. pris. Put, n., pit. A. S. pyt. 



478 



GLOSSARY 



Putte, v., put, lay, suppose. 

Pye, n., magpie. 0. F. pie. 

Pye, n., pie, 

Pyk, n., pike (fish). A. S. pic. 

Pyke, v., peek, pry. 

Pykepurs, n., pickpurse. — A. S. 

purs. 
Pyne, n., pain, torment. A. S. 

pin/. 
Pyne, v., torture. A. S. pinian. 
Pype, n., pipe, A. S. pipe. 
Pype, v., play the pipe, pipe. 
Pypers, n., plu., pipers. A. S. 

pipere. 



Quaille, n., quail. 0. F. 

Qualm, 71., pestilence, plague, 
foreboding, A. S. cwealm. 

Quantite, n., quantity, size, 
vastness. O. F. 

Quappe, v., heave, toss, pal- 
pitate. 

Quayles, n., plu., see Quaille. 

Queinte, adj., see Queynte. 

Quelle, v., kill, strike. A, S. 
cwellan. 

Queme, v., please. A. S. cwe- 
man. 

Quenche, v., quench, extinguish, 
put a stop to. A. S. (a)- 
cwencan. 

Quene, n., queen, A.S.cwenf. 

Querne, n., quern, hand-mill. 
A. S. cweorn /, 

Questioun, n., dispute, discus- 
sion. 0. F. question. 

Queynt, p. p.; Queynte, v., pret.; 
see Quenche. 

Queynte, adj., artful, ingeni- 
ously wrought, elaborate, ele- 
gant; adv., artfully, O. F. 
queinte. 

Queynteliche, adv., curiously, 
cunningly. 

Quiete, n., quiet, repose. 0. F. 

Quik, adj., alive. A. S. cwic. 

Quike, v., quicken, revive. A. 
S. cwician. 

Quiknesse, n., liveliness. 

Quiryne: Romulus. 

Quisshin, n., cushion. 0. F. 
coissin. 



Quit, p. p., see Quyte. 
Quitly, adv., freely, wholly. 
Quod, v., pret. sing., said, quoth. 

A. S. cweSan. 
Quook, v., pret. sing., trembled, 

quaked. From Quake. A. S. 

cwacian. 
Quyte, v., requite, reward, pay, 

release, free. O. F. quiter. 

R 
Rad, p. p.; Radde, v., pret.; see 

Rede. 
Raft, p. p.) Rafte, v., pret.; see 

Reve. 
Rage, n., passion, madness, 

fierce blast. 0. F. 
Rage, v., romp, toy wantonly. 

0. F. ragier. 
Ragerye, n., passion, wanton- 
ness. 0. F. ragerie. 
Rakel, adj., rash, hasty. 
Rakelnesse, n., rashness. 
Rakle, v., behave rashly. 
Ram, n., ram (as a prize at a 

wrestling-match) ; Aries {jirst 

sign of the zodiac). A. S. 

See Aries. 
Rancour, n., ill-feeling, malice. 

O. F. rancor. 
Ransake, v., ransack, search 

thoroughly. 
Rape, n,, haste. 0. N. hrap. 
Rascaille, n., mob. A. F. 
Rasour, n., razor. 0. F. rasor. 
Rathe, adv., soon, early, A. S. 

hrseS. 
Rather, adv., sooner, more wil- 
lingly, rather, A. S. hraSor. 
Rattes, n., plu., rats, A. S. raet. 
Raughte, v., pret., see Reche. 
Raunsoun n., ransom. 0. F. 

ranfon. 
Rave, v., be mad, speak madly. 

0. F. raver. 
Raven, n., raven; Corvus {the 

constellation). A. S. hraefn. 
Ravisedest, v., second pers. sing., 

piet. indie, seeRavisshe. 
Ravisshe, v., ravish, snatch 

away, F. ravir. 
Ravyne, n., ravening, ravin, 

prey, theft, 0. F. ravine. 



GLOSSARY 479 

Rayed, p. p., striped. 0. F. stniment made of reed. A. S. 

raie. hreod. 

Rayne, v., see Reyne. Reed, n., counsel, advice, plan, 

RaziSf'Rha.sis: a Spanish Arabian remedy. ^. *S'. raed. 

physician of the tenth century. Reed, adj., red. A. S. read. 

Real, adj., royal, regal. 0. F. Rees, n., race, great haste. 

Realme, n., realm, kingdom. A. S. raes. 

O. F. reialme. Reflexioun, n., reflection, 

Rebel, adj., rebellious. O. F. thought. 0. F. reflexion. 

rebelle. Refresshe, v., refresh, recreate. 

Rebelling, s., rebellion. F. re- 0. F. refreschier. 

beller. Refreyde, v., grow cold. O. F. 

Recche, v., reck, care, heed. refreidier. 

A. S. recan, reccan. Refreyn, n., refrain. 0. F. 

Recche, v., interpret, expound. refrein. 

A. S. reccan, reccean. Refus, adj., refused, rejected. 

Recchelees, adj., reckless, care- O. F. refuser. 

less. Regioun, n., region, realm. A, F. 

Receyve, v., receive. 0. F, regiun. 

receivre. Registre, n., register, story. O. 

Rechased, p. p., headed back, F. 

chased back. F. rechasser. Regne, n., kingdom, dominion, 

Reche, v., reach, give, touch, realm. O. F. 

proceed. A. S. rsecan. Regne, v., reign, prevail. 0. F. 

Recomaunde, v., recommend. regner. 

F. recommander. Reherce, v., rehearse, enumerate, 

Recomforte, v., see Reconforte. repeat. O. F. rehercer. 

Recompensacioun, n., recom- Rehersing, s., rehearsal. See 

pense. 0. F. recompensation. Reherce. 

Reconforte, v., comfort again, Reighte, v., pret., see Reche. 

encourage. O. F. reconforter. Reines, n., plu., rain-storms. 

Recorde, 7'., witness, remember, A. S. regn. 

call to mind. 0. F. recorder. Reioyse, v., rejoice, make glad. 

Recours, n., recourse, resort. F. O. F. resjoir. 

Recreaunt, adj., recreant, cow- Rekene, v., reckon, count. A. S. 

ardly. 0. F. recreant. gerecenian. 

Red, p. p.; Rede, v., pret.; see Rekeninge, s., reckoning, ac- 

Rede. count. See Rekene. 

Rede, v., read, advise, study, Rekke, v., care, reck. A. S. 

interpret. A. S. raedan. recan; reccan. See Recche. 

Rede, n., dat., see Reed. Rekne, v., see Rekene. 

Redely, adv., soon, readily, truly. Relayes, n., plu., fresh sets of 

Redempcioun, n., ransom. F. hounds, reserve packs. O. F. 

redemption. relais. 

Reder, ?i., reader. ^. ^S. raedere. Relesse, v., release, forgive. 

Redily, adv., see Redely. O. F. relesser. 

Redouting, s., reverence. Releve, v., raise up, relieve. 

Redresse, v., redress, set right, O. F. relever. 

make amends, rise again. 0. Religioun, n., religion. A. F. 

F. redresser. religiun. 

Redy, adj., ready, at hand. A. Religious, adj., belonging to a 

S. rsede. religious order. 0. F. 

Reed, n., reed, musical in- Relik, n., relic. F. relique. 



480 



GLOSSARY 



Reme, n., realm. O. F. reaume. 

Remede, n., remedy. 0. F. 

Remedie, Remedye, n., remedy. 
0. F. remedie. 

Remembre, v., remember, re- 
mind. O. F. remembrer. 

Remenant, n., remainder, rest. 
0. F. 

Remorde, v., cause remorse, 
vex, plague. O. F. remordre. 

Remors, n., remorse. 0. F. 

Remuable, adj., changeable, vari- 
able. O. F. 

Renges, n., plu.., ranks. O. F. 
renge. 

Renne, v., run, be current, 
spread, continue. A. S. ir- 
nan. 

Renoun, n., renown, fame. A. F. 

Renovelaunces, n., plu., re- 
newals. 0. F. renovelance. 

Rente, n., income, payment. 
O. F. 

Repaire, v., go back, return, 
find a home. O. F. repairer. 

Reparaciouns, n., plu., repara- 
tions, making up. O. F. 
reparacion. 

Repeled, p. p., repealed. Frorn 
Repele. O, F. rapeler. 

Repentaunce, n., repentance. 
F. repentance. 

Repentaunt, adj., repentant. F. 
repentant. 

Repeyre, v.., see Repaire. 

Repleccioun, n., repletion. O. 
F. repletion. 

Repleet, adj., replete, full. O. F. 

Replicacioun, n., reply, repartee. 
O. F. replicacion. 

Reportour, n., reporter. 0. F. 
reporteur. 

Reprevable, adj., reprehensible. 
O. F. reprouvable. 

Repreve, n., reproof, shame, 
reproach. A. F. repreove. 

Repreve, ?•,, reprove, reproach. 
O. F. reprover. 

Reputacioun, n., repute, rep- 
utation. L. reputatio. 

Requere, v., require, demand, 
seek. O. F. requerre. 

Requeste, n., request. O. F. 



Rescous, n., rescue, help. 0. F. 

rescous. 
Rese, v., shake. A. S. rsesan. 
Resonable, adj., reasonable. 0. 

F. 
Resoun, n., reason, right. 0. F. 

reson. 
Resoune, v., resound. O. F. 

resoner. 
Respect, n., regard. L. re- 

spectus. To respect, in re- 
spect. 
Resport, n., regard. 0. F. 
Respyt, n., respite, delay. O. F, 

re spit. 
Reste, n., rest, repose. A. S. 

raest /. 
Restelees, adj., restless. 
Restreyne, v., restrain. O. F. 

restreindre. 
Ret, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

indie, see Rede. 
Retenue, n., retinue. O. F. 
Rethor, n., orator. L. rhetor. 
Rethoryke, n., rhetoric. O. F. 

rethorique. 
Retoume, v., return. O. F. 

retoumer. 
Retouminge, s., return. O. F., 

retoumer. 
Reule, n., rule. 0. F. 
Reule, v., rule. O. F. reuler. 
Reve, n., reeve, steward, bailiff: 

appointed by a landowner to 

superintend his estates. A. S. 

gerefa. 
Reve, v., rob, plunder, take 

away, bereave. A. S. reafian. 
Revelacioun, n., revelation. F, 

revelation. 
Revelour, n., reveller. 
Reverence, n., reverence, re- 
spect, honor. F. 
Revers, n., reverse, contrary. 

O. F. 
Revoke, v., recall. O. F. re- 

voquier. 
Reward, n., regard, attention. 

O. F. 
Rewe, n., row, line. A. S. raew 

/. 
Rewe, ?'., pity, have pity. A. S, 
hreowan. 



GLOSSARY 481 

Rewfulleste, adj., superL, most Romaunce, n., romance. O. F. 

riipfiil. remans. 

RewfuUy, adv., ruefully, sadly. Romayn, Roman. 

Rewthe, ?/., see Routhe.. Rome, v., roam, wander. 

Rewthelees, adj., ruthless, un- Ron, v., pret. sing., see Reyne. 

{)i tying. Rong, v., pret. sing., see Ringe. 

Reyes, n., plu., round dances. Ronne, v., pret.; p. p.; see Renne. 

Reyn, n., rain. A. S. regn. Roo, n., roe. A. S. ra. 

Re5nQe, v., rain. A. S. regnian. Roos, v., pret. sing., see Ryse. 

Reyne, n., rein. O. F. resne. Roost, n., roast. 0. F. rost. 

Reynes, Rennes. Rore, n., uproar. 

Reyse, v., raise. O. N. reisa. Rore, v., roar, resound. A. S. 
Reysed, p. p., gone on a military rarian. 

expedition. Roste, v., roast. O. F. rostir. 

Riban, n., ribbon. 0. F. Rote, n., root, principle, source. 
Ribaudye, n., ribaldry. O. F. O. N. rot. 

ribaudie. Rote, n., rote. By rote, by heart. 

Riche, adj., rich. A. S. rice; Rote, n., stringed musical in- 

cf. 0. F. riche. strument. O. F. 

Richesse, n., riches, wealth. Roughte, ik, pret., see Recche. 

O. F. Rouke, v., cower, huddle. 

Riden, v., pret. plu.; p. p.; see Rouncivale: the hospital of the 

Ryde. Blessed Mary of Rouncyvalle 

Rightful, adj., perfect. in London. 

Rightwisnesse, n., righteous- Rouncy, n., hackney, nag. O. F. 

ness. A. S. rihtwisnes /. ronci. 

Rinde, n., rind, bark, hard skin. Rounde, adv., round, fully. 

A. 8. rind/. Roundel, n., roundel, roundelay, 
Ringe, v., ring, make resound. small circle. O. F. rondel. 

A. S. hringan. Roune, y., whisper. yl.*S.runian. 

Ripheo, Riphaeus. Route, 7i., company, troop. O.F. 

Risshe, ??., rush. A. S. risce. Route, v., roar, murmur, snore. 

Al dere y-nough a risshe, A. S. hrutan. 

quite expensive enough at the Routhe, n., pity, ruth, com- 

price of a rush: i. e., a rush passion. 

would be too much to pay for it. Routhelees, adj., ruthless, piti- 
Rist, IK, third pers. sing., pres. less. 

indie., see Ryse. Rowe, n., see Rewe. 

Roche, n., rock. 0. F. See Rowe, adv., roughly, angrily. 

Rokke. A. S. ruh. 

Rochel, Rochelle: a town in Rowland, Roland: the hero of the 

France. Chanson de Roland. 

Rode, n., rood, cross. A.S.iodf. Rowne, v., see Roune. 

Rode-beem, n., rood-beam. A. Rowthe, n., see Routhe. 

S. rod /. — beam. Royalliche, adv., royally. 

Rody, adj., ruddy. A. S. rudig. Royaltee, n., royalty. O. F. 
Roghte, v., pret., see Recche. roialte. 

Rokes, n., plu., rooks. A. S. Rubbe, v., rub out. 

hroc. Rubee, n., ruby. 0. F. rubi. 

Rokke, n., rock. 0. F. roke. Rubeus: a figure in geomancy 

Sec Roche. representing a constellation. It 

RoUe, n., roll. 0. F. was dedicated to Mars. See 

Remain, Roman. Puella. 



482 GLOSSARY 

Ruce, Russia. Sampson, Sampsoun, Samson. 

Ruddok, n., robin. yl.*S. rudduc. Sangwin, n., stuff of a blood- 

Rudeliche, adv., rudely. red color, 

Rudenesse, n., rusticity, boor- Sangwyn,a47'., very ruddy, blood- 

ishness. red, dominated by the blood. 

Rufus: a Greek physician of 0. F. sanguin. See Colera. 

Ephesus of the second century Santippe, Xanthippus. 

A. D. Sarge, n., serge. 0. F. 

Ruggy, adj., rough. Sarpedoun, Sarpedon. 

Rumbel, n., rumble, rumor. Satalye, Attalia in Asia Minor, 

Rused, v., pref., made a detour, now Adalia. 

escaped. 0. F. ruser. Sate, v., pret. sid)j., see Sitte. 

Ruyne, n., ruin. O. F. Satume, Saturnus, Saturn. 

Ryde, v., ride, go on expeditions. Satumyn, adj., belonging to 

^. *S. ridan. Saturn. 

Rym, n., rime, tale in verse. Sauf, adj., safe. 0. F. 

A. S. rim. Sauf, prep., save, except. O. F. 

Ryme, v., put into rime. A. S. Saufly, adv., safely, with safety. 

riman. Saugh, v., saw, looked. From 

Ryot, n., riotous living. O. F. See. A. S. seen. 

riot. Sautrye, n., psaltery. O. F. 

Ryotour, n., roisterer. A. F. psalterie. 

riotour. Savacioun, n., salvation, safety, 

Rype, adj., ripe, mature. A, S. protection. O. F. sauvacion. 

ripe. Save-garde, n., safe-conduct. O. 

Ryse, v., rise. A. S. risan. F. sauvegarde. 

Ryte, n., rite, ceremony. L. Saveour,n., savior. O. F. saveor. 

ritus. Savoure, v., taste, have relish 

Ryve, v., pierce, tear. 0. N. rifa. for, 0. F. savorer. 

Sawcefleem, adj., covered with 

^ pimples. 0. F. sausefleme. 

Sacrifyse, n., sacrifice, O. F. Sawe, n., saying, speech. A, S, 

sacrifise. sagu. 

Sad, n., stable, firm, sober, Sawe, Say, v., pret., saw. From 

fixed, grave, A. S. saed. See. A. S. seen. 

Sadel, n., saddle. A. S. sadol. Sayle, v., sail. A. S. seglian. 

Sadel-bowe, n., saddle-bow: the Sayling, adj. (from pres. pariic), 

pieces forming the front of a sailing, used in ships. A. S, 

saddle. A. S. sadelboga. segling. 

Sadly, adv., firmly, steadfastly. Scabbe, n., scab. 

Sadnesse, n., staidness, sober- Scalle, n., scabby disease of the 

ness. A. S. saedness /, skin, 0. N. skalle (?) 

Saffron, v., tinge with saffron, Scalled, adj., scabby. See Scalle. 

color, F. saftaner. Scape, v., escape, 0. F. escaper. 

Salomon, Solomon. Scariot, Iscariot. 

Saluces, Saluzzo. Scarlet, adj., scarlet. O. F. 

Salue, v., greet, salute, F. saluer. escarlate. 

Saluinge,s., salutation, i^. saluer. Scarlet, n., scarlet stuff. 0. F. 

Saluwe, v., see Salue. escarlate. 

Salve, n., salve, cure. A. S. Scarmuche, Scarmyche, n., 

sealf /.; sealfe. skirmish, O. F. escarmuche. 

Samit, n., samite: a kind of Scarsly, adv., scarcely, parsi- 

heavy silk stuj^. O. F, moniously. 



GLOSSARY 



483 



Scathe, n., harm, misfortune. 

0. N. skaSe. 
Scipio, Scipioun, Scipio Africanus 

Mmor. Sec Macrobie. 
Scithia, Scythia. 
Sclaundre, n., slander. 0. F. 

esclandre. 
Sclendre, adj., slender. 
Scogan: probably Henry Scogan, 

iutor of the two sons of Henry 

IV. 
Scole, 71., school, manner, dis- 
cipline. A. S. scolu. 
Scoler, 71., scholar. A. S. 

scolere; O. F. escoler. 
Scoleward: to scoleward, toward 

school. 
Scoleye, v., attend school. 
Scome, ?'., scorn, treat with 

rudeness, jest at. 0. F. es- 

comer. 
Scorpioun, the sign of Scorpio. 
Scrippe, n., scrip, bag. L. L. 

scrippum; O. F. escrepe. 
Scrit, n., writing, deed. 0. F. 

escrit. 
Scrivenish, adv., like a scrivener. 
Scriveyn, 7i., scribe. 0. F. 

escrivain. 
Seche, i\, seek. A. S. secan. 

See Seke. 
Secree, adj., secret, trusty. O. 

F. secre. 
Secrely, adv., secretly. 
Secte, n., sect, company, faith. 

F. 
See, n., sea. A. S. sse. Drye 

see, dry sea: perhaps the 

desert of Gobi. Cf. Carrenar. 

Grete see, great sea: the 

M edit err a nean. 
See, n., seat. 0. F. 
Seed, n., seed. A. S. saed. 
Seed-foul, n., bird living on seeds. 

A. S. ssed — fugol. 
Seek, adj., sick, ill. A. S. seoc. 

See Syk. 
Seel, n., seal. 0. F. 
Seestow, v., pron., second pers. 

sing., pres. indie, seest thou. 

From See. A. S. seon. 
Seet, v., pret. sing., see Sitte. 
Seetes, n., plu., seats. 



Sege, n., seat, siege. A. F. 

Segge, v., pres. plu., see Seye. 

Seigh, v., pret. sing., saw. From 
See. A. S. seon. 

Seint, adj., saint, holy. 0. F. 

Seint, n., saint. O. F. 

Semt Beneit, Saint Benedict: 
founder of the Benedictine order 
of monks; died c. 544. 

Seinte Loy, Saint Eloi: {588- 
659) goldsmi'h and master of 
the mint, artist and courtier; 
he once refused to sivear an oath. 

Seint lame. Saint James; the 
shine of St. James [Saidiago) 
at Com post ella. 

Seint lerome, Saint Jerome: (c. 
340-420) author of the treatise 
Adversus .Jovinianum defend- 
ing celibacy. 

Seint loce. Saint Josse: con- 
fused by the Wife of Bathe with 
Sir Joce in the Testament of 
Jean de Meun. Sir Joce cared 
"not a prune for his wife's love." 

Seint lulian. Saint Julian: who 
provides his votaries with good 
lodgings and other accommoda- 
tions. 

Seint Maure, Saint Maur: a 
disciple of St. Benedict. 

Seint Ronyon, Saint Ronan. 

Seint Thomas, Saint Thomas 
a Becket: murdered at Canter- 
bury in 1 1 'JO. 

Seistow, v., pron., second pers. 
sing., pres. indie, see Seye. 

Seith, v., third pers. sing., pres. 
indie, see Seye. 

Seke, v., seek, search. A. S, 
secan. See Seche. 

Selde, adj., plu., few; adv., 
seldom. 

Self, adj., self-same, same. A. S. 

Selly, n., wonderful. A. S. 
sellic. 

Selve, adj., see Self. 

Sely, adj., happy, good, innocent, 
poor. A. S. sselig. 

Seme, v., seem, appear. O. A^. 
s^ma. 

Semely, adj., seemly, comely; 
adv., becomingly. 



484 GLOSSARY 

Semicope, n., half-cope, short Sette, v., set, place. A. S. 

cope. L. semi — L. L. capa. settan. 

Seming, s., seeming, appearance. Seur, adv., surely. O. F. 

Semyramus, Semiramus. Seurtee, n., surety, security. 
Sendal, n., thin silk. O. F. O. F. seurtee. 

Sene, adj., visible, manifest. Sewe, v., follow, pursue. A. F. 

A. S. gesene. See Y-sene. suire. 

Sene, v., gerund., see. From Sexte, ord. num., sixth. A. S. 

See. A. S. seon. sixta. 

Senek, Seneca. Sey, v., pret. sing., saw. From 
Sent, v., third yers. sing., pres. See. A. S. seen. 

indie, sends. Fro7n Sende. Seye, v., say. A. S. secgan. 

A. S. sendan. Seyl, n., sail. A. S. segl. 

Sentement, n., feeling, fancy. Seyn, /;. p., seen. From See. 

0. F. A. S. seen. 

Sentence, n., sense, meaning, Seyn, v., infin.; pres. plu.; see 

judgment. O. F. Seye. 

Sepulture, n., mode of burial, Seynd, p. p., singed. From 

burial, tomb. 0. F. Senge. A. S. sengan. 

Serapion: an Arabian physician Seyne, gerund., see Seye. 

of the eleventh century. Seynt, adj.; n.; see Seint. 

Sergeaunt of the Lawe, ser- Seynt Gyle, Saint Giles: St. 

geant-at-law : member of a ^gidins. 

superior order of barristers. Seynt lohan, Saint John. "Seynt 

O. F. sergent. A. S. lagu. lohan on a riche hil " is a pun- 

Sermon, n., see Sermoun. ning reference to John of Rich- 

Sermone, v., preach, speak. 0. mond (John of Gaunt). 

F. sermoner. Seynt VaJentyn, Saint Valentine. 

Sermoun, n., discourse, sermon, Seys, Ceyx. 

talk. A. F. sermun. Shadwe, n., shadow, shade. 
Servage, n., servitude, thral- A. S. sceadu. 

dom. 0. F, Shadwed, 7;. 7),, shadowed. A.S. 
Servaunt, n., servant. 0. F. sceadwian. 

servant. Shake, p. p., shaken. A. S. 
Servisable, adj., serviceable, will- scacan. 

ing to serve, useful. O. F. Shal, v., first and third per s. sing., 
Servitute, n., servitude. O. F. pres. indie, shall. A. S. sculan. 

Servyse, n., service, religious Shale, n., shell. A. S. scealu. 

service, musical performance. Shalmyes, n., plu., shawms, reed 

O. F. servise. ' pipes. 0. F. chalemie. 

Sese, t;., seize. 0. F. seisir. ShaXtow , v., second pers. sing., pres. 
Seson, Sesoun, n., season. 0. indie, shalt thou. See Shal. 

F. seson. Shame, n., shame. A. S. sceamu. 

Sessiouns, n., plu., sessions. Shamfast, adj., modest, shy. 

F. session. A. S. scamfaest. 

Sestow, v., pron., second pers. Shamfastnesse, n., modesty. 

sing., pres. indie, seest thou. Shap, n., shape, form. A. S. 

From See. A. S. seon. gesceap. 

Sete, v., pret. sing., subj.; Sete, Shape, v., plan, devise, prepare. 

Seten, v., pret. plu.; Seten, A. S. scieppan. 

p. p.; see Sitte. Shaply, adj., shapely, fit, likely. 

Sethe, v., seethe, boil. A. S. Sharpe, adv., sharply. 

seoSan. Sheef, n., sheaf. A. S. sceaf. 



GLOSSARY 



485 



Sheeld, n., f^ec Sheld. 

Sheep, 71., shoep. A. S. seep. 

Sheld, n., shield; shield: French 
crown {worth js. 4(1.) A. S. 
sceld. 

Shelde, v., see Shilde. 

Shende, v., disgrace, harm, de- 
stroy. A. *S. scendan. 

Shene, adj., bright, fair, beauti- 
ful. A. S. scene. 

Shepherde, n., shepherd. A. S. 
sceaphyrde. 

Shepne, ?i., stable, shed. A, S. 
scypen. 

Shere, n., shears, pair of shears. 
A. S. sceara. 

Sherte, 7i., shirt. A. S. scyrte. 

Shete, n., sheet. A. S. scete. 

Sheter, n., shooter, fit for shoot- 
ing. 

Shethe, n., sheath. A. S, scabTpf. 

Shette, v., shut, enclose. A, S. 
scyttan. 

Sheves, 7i., plu., see Sheef. 

Shewe, v., show, appear. A. S. 
sceawian. 

Shilde, v., shield, defend. A. S. 
scyldan. 

Shine, n., shin. A. S. scinu. 

Shipman, n., sailor, seaman. 
A. S. scipmann. 

Shippes,n.,pZii., ships. A. S. scip. 

Shire, n., shire. A. S. scir /. 

Shirreve, n., sheriff. A, S. 
scirgerefa. 

Shivere, v., shiver, break. 

She, n., see Shoo. 

Shode, n., crown of the head. 
A. S. sceada. 

Sholde, v., yret., see Shal. 

Sholder-boon, n., shoulder-blade- 
bone. A. S. sculdor — ban. 

Shon, v., pret. sing., see Shyne. 

Shonde, n., shame, disgrace. 
A. S. sceand /. 

Shoo, n., shoe. A. S. sceoh. 

Shoof, ?'., pret. sing., shoved, 
pushed. Frotn Shove. A, S. 
scufan. 

Shoon, v., pret. sing., see Shyne. 

Shoop, v., pret. sing., see Shape. 

Shorte, v., shorten. A. S. 
scortian. 



Shortly, adv., briefly. A. S. 

sceortlice. 
Short-sholdred, adj., short in 

the upper arm. 
Shottes, n., plu., shots. A.S. scot. 
Shour, n., shower, onset, con- 
flict. A. S. scur. 
Showting, n., shouting. 
Shrewe, n., scoundrel, accursed 

wretch, ill-tempered person. 

A. S. screawa. 
Shrewe, v., beshrew, curse. 
Shrewed, adj., accursed, evil, 

wicked. 
Shrewednesse, n., wickedness, 

evil, cursedness. 
Shright; p. p.; Shrighte, v., 

pret.; shrieked. From Shrike. 

Cf. Shryked. 
Shrinke, v., shrink, draw (in). 

A. S. scrincan. 
Shryked, v., pret., shrieked. 

Fro7)i Shrike. Cf. Shrighte. 
Shul, ShuUen, v., pres., shall; 

Shulde, v., pret., should. See 

Shal. 
Shuldres, n., plu., shoulders. 

A. S. sculdor. 
Shyne, v., shine. A. S. scinan. 
Sicamour, n., sycamore. L. 

sycomorus. 
Sight, Sighte, n., sight. A. S. 

gesiht /, 
Sighte, v., pret., see Syke. 
Signe, 71., sign. F. 
Signet, n., signet-ring. 0. F. 
Signifer: the zodiac. 
Signifiaunce, n., significance. O. 

F, signifiance. 
Significavit: the beginning of a 

writ of excommunication. 
Signifyed, v., pret., signified, 

meant. F. signifier. 
Sik, adj., see Syk. 
Siker, adj., sure; adv., surely, 

securely. A, S. sicor. 
Sikerer, adj., compar., more 

sure. See Siker. 
Sikerly, adv., certainly, surely. 
Sikemesse, n., security, safety, 

confidence. 
Sikly, adv., ill, hardly, with ill 

will. 



486 GLOSSARY 

Siknesse, n., sickness, illness. Sleer, n., slayer. 

A. S. seocness/. Sleighly, adv., see Sleyly. 

Silla, Scylla: who for love of Sleighte, n., sleight, trickery, 

Minos cut off her father's hair device, plan, 

upon which his life depended, Slepe, v., sleep. A. S. slsepan. 

and who was therefore trans- Slepy, adj., sleepy, sleep-be- 

formed into a bird. See Ovid, stowing. A. S. slsepig. 

Metam., viii, 8. Sieve, n., sleeve. A. S. slef /. 

Sillable, n., syllable. 0. F. Sley, adj., sly, subtle. 0. N. 

sillabe. slsegr. 

Silver-brighte, adj., plu., bright Sleyly, adv., slyly, subtly, skill- 

as silver. fully. 

Simon Magus: a sorcerer of Sleyn, p. p., see Slee. 

Samaria {Acts viii, g-2 4). Slinge-stones, n., plu., shng- 

Sin, conj., adv., since. A. S. stones. — A. S. stan. 

siSSan. Cf. Sith, Sithen. Slinke, v., slink, creep. A. S. 

Sinne, n., sin. A. S. synn /. slincan. 

Sinoun, Sinon: allowed himself Slit, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

to be taken prisoner by the indie, see Slyde. 

Trojans, and persuaded them Slogardye, n., sluggishness, sloth, 

to admit to the city the wooden indolence. 

horse which was filled with Slombrestow, v., pron., second 

armed men. pers. sing., pres. indie, slum- 
Sir, Sire, n., sir, master. O. F. berest thou. A. S. slumerian. 

sire. Slomeringe, s., slumber. A. S. 

Sisoures, n., plu., scissors. O. F. slomerian. 

cisoires. Slough, v., pret. sing., see Slee. 

Site, n., site, situation. A. F. Slouthe, n., sloth. 

Sith, cory'., since. A. S, siZ'Sa.n. Slow, v., pret. sing., see Slee. 

Cf. Sin, Sithen. Slow, adj., slow, slothful, idle. 

Sithen, conj., adv., since. A. S. A. S. slaw. 

siSSan. Cf. Sin, Sith. Slyde, v., slide, pass. A. S. 

Sitte, v., sit, be situated, dwell, slidan. 

befit, suit. A. S. sittan. Smal, adj., small; arfy., little. A, 

Sittingest, adj., superl., most S. smael. 

fitting. Smel, n., smell. 

Sixte, ord. num., sixth. A. S. Smert, adj., smart, quick, pain- 

sixta. ful. A. S. smeart. 
Skarmishe, n., see Scarmuche. Smerte, adv., smartly, sharply. 
Skathe, n., see Scathe. Smerte, v., smart, sting, feel 
Skil, n., reason, cause. O. N. pain. A. S. smeortan. 
Skilful, adj., reasonable. Smitted, p. p., smutted, be- 
Skilfully, adv., reasonably. smirched. A. S. smittian. 
Skippe, v., skip, jump, dance. Smok, n., smock. A. S. smocc. 
Skye, n., cloud. 0. N. sky. Smoke, n., smoke, A. S. smoca. 
Slake, v., slacken, desist, wane. Smoklees, adj., without a smock. 

A. S. slacian. Smothe, adj., smooth; adv., 

Slakke, adj., slow, A. S. slaec. smoothly. A. S. smo(5. 

Slawe, Slawen, Slayn, p. p., see Smyler, n., smiler. 

Slee. Smyte, v., smite, strike. A. S. 

Slee, v., slay. A. S, slean. smitan. 

Sleep, n., sleep. A. S. slaep. Snewed, v., pret. sing., snowed. 

Sleep, v., pret. sing., see Slepe. A. S. smwan. 



GLOSSARY 487 

Snibbe, v., snub, reprove, chide. Somtyme, adv., once, at some 

Snowes, n., plu., snow-storms. time. A. S. sum — tima. 

A. S. snaw. Sond, n., sand, A. iS. 

Snowte, n., snout. Sonde, n., message. A.S.ssindf. 

Sobbes, n., plu., sobs. Sondry, adj., sundry, various. 

Sobre, adj., sober, sedate, staid. A. S. syndrig. 

0. F. Sone, n., son. A. S. sunu. 

Sobrely, adv., soberly, gravely, Sone, adv., straightway, im- 

sadly. mediately, soon. A. S. sona. 

Soch, adj., such. A. S. swylc. Sone-in-lawe, n., son-in-law. A. 

See Swich. *S'. sunu — in — lagu. 

Socour, Socours, n., succor. Song, v., jwet. sing.; Songe, 

help. O. F. sucurs. Songen, pret. plu.; sang. From 

Sodein, adj., prompt, sudden. Singe. A. S. singan. 

O. F. sodain. Songe, Songen, p. p., sung. 

Sodeinly, adv., suddenly. From Singe. A. S. singan. 

Softe, adj., soft, mild; adv., Sonne, n., sun. A. S. sunne. 

softly, gently, tenderly. A.S, Sonnish, adj., sun-hke. 

softe. Sooth, adj., true. A. S. so3. 

Soghte, v., pret., see Seke. Sooth, w., truth. .A. aS. soS. See 

Soiome, v., sojourn, delay, dwell. Sothe. 

O. F. sojomer. Soothfastnesse, n., truth. 

Solace, v., refresh, comfort. 0. Soothly, adv., truly. A. S. S0(5- 

F. solacier. lice. 

Solas, n., solace, amusement. Sooty, adj., begrimed with soot. 

comfort. O. F. A. S. sotig. 

Solempne, adj., solemn, festive. Sop, n., sop: bread or cake dipped 

grand, important. O. F, in a liquid. 

Solempnely, adv., pompously, Soper, n., supper. 0. F. 

with pomp. Sophyme, n., a sophism. O. F. 

Solempnitee, n., pomp, cere- sofRme. 

mony. 0. F. solempnite. Sore, n., sore, misery, pain. 

Soleyn, adj., sole, solitary; un- A. S. sar. 

mated. Sore, adj., sore; adv., sorely. A, 

Solitarie, adj., solitary. L. soli- S. sar. 

tarius. Sore, v., soar. O. F. essorer. 

Som, pron., one, a certain one, Sorowe, n., see Sorwe. 

some one. A. S. sum. Al Sort, n., lot, destiny, chance. 

and som, one and all (all and 0. F. 

each). Tenthe som, company Sorwe, n., sorrow, grief. A. S. 

of ten. sorh/. 

Somdel, adv., somewhat. A. S. Sorweful, adj., sorrowful. A. S. 

sum — dsel. sorgful. 

Somer, n., summer. ^./S. sumor. Sorwefully, adv., sorrowfully. 

Somer-sonne, n., summer sun. Sorwful, adj., see Sorweful. 

A. S. sumor — sunne. Sory, adj., sorrowful, sad, miser- 

Somme, adj., plu., see Som. able. A. S. sarig. 

Somme, n., sum, total. O. F. Sote, adj., sweet. A. S. swot. 

some. Soth, adj., see Sooth. 

Somnour, n., summoner: an Sothe, n., truth. A.S.so^. See 

officer who summoned delin- Sooth. 

quents before the ecclesiastical Soth-sawe, n., true saying. A. 

courts. O. F, semoneor. S. soc5 — sagu. 



488 GLOSSARY 

Sota, adj., subtle, cunning, thin. Sparwe, n., sparrow. A. S. 

0. F. soutil. spearwa. 

Souded, J), p., confirmed. 0. F. Spayne, Spain. 

souder. Space, n., species, kind. O. F. 
Soughte, v., pret., see Sake. espece. 

Souke, v., suck. A. S. sucan. Speche, n., speech, discourse, 
Soule, n., soul. A. S. sawl /. talk, address. A. S. spsec/. 

Soulfre, n., sulphur. A. F. Specially, adv., especially. 

sulfre. Spede, v., succeed, prosper, 
Soun, n., sound, musical sound. hasten. A. S. spedan. 

O. F. son. Speed, n., help, success. A. S, 
Sonne, v., sound, utter, tend sped. 

(toward), be consonant with, Speke, y., speak. A./S. specan. 

agree with. 0. F. soner. Spere, n., spear. A. S. 

Soupe, v., sup. 0. F. soper. Spere, n., sphere. 0. F. espere. 

Souper, n., see Soper. Sperhauk, n., sparrowhawk. A, 
Souple, n., supple, pliant. 0. F. S. spearhafoc. 

sople. Sperred, p. p., barred, fastened. 
Soures, n., plu., sorrels, bucks A. S. gesparrian. 

of the third year. 0. F. sorel. Spete, v., spit. A. S. spittan. 
Sours, n., source, origin, soaring. See Spitte. 

swift upward flight. 0. F. Spille, v., destroy, perish, put 

sors. to confusion, drop. A. S. 

Soutiltee, n., device. O. F. spillan. 

sutilte. Spitte, v., spit. A. S. spittan. 
Soverainetee, Soveraynetee, n., See Spete. 

sovereignty, supremacy. O. Spones, n., plu. spoons. A. S. 

F. sovrainete. spon. 

Sovereyn, adj., sovereign, su- Spore, n., spur. A. S. spora. 

preme, chief. 0. F. sovrain. Spome, v., spurn, kick, tread. 
Sovereynly, ac?y., royally, chiefly. A. S. spuman. 

Sowe, n., sow. A. S. sugu. Spousaille, n., espousal, wedding. 
Sowe, v., sew. A. S. siowian. 0. F. espousailles {plu.). 

Sowe, v., sow. A. S. sawan. Spouse, n., spouse. O. F. epous 
Sowle, n., see Soule. (masc), epouse (fern.). 

Sowne, v., see Sonne. Sprad, p. p.; Spradde, v., pret.; 
Space, n., room, space of time, see Sprede. 

while, opportunity. 0. F. Sprede, v., spread, open. A. S. 

espace. sprsedan. 

Spade, n., spade. A. S. spada. Spreynd, p. p., see Springe (weak 
Spak, v., pret. sing., see Speke. verb). Cf. Y-spreynd. 

Spanne, n., span. A. S. spann Springe, v., strong., spring up, 

/. rise, grow. A. S. springan. 

Span-newe, adj., span-new, Springe, v., weak, sprinkle, 

brand new. scatter. A. S. sprengan. 

Spare, v., spare, refrain, cease. Springes, n., plu., springs, merry 
over. A. S. sparian. dances. 



Sparhauk, n., see Sperhawk. Spronge, p. p., see Springe 
Sparke, n., spark. A. S. spearca. (strong verb). 

Sparowe, n., see Sparwe. Spyce, n., spice. O. F. espice. 

Sparre, n., wooden beam. Spyced, p. p., spiced, scrupu- 
Sparth, n., battle-axe. 0. N. lous. 

sparSa. Spycerye, n., collection of spices, 



GLOSSARY 



489 



mixture of spices. 0. F. 

espicerie. 
Spye, n., spy. O. F. espie. 
Squerels, n., plu., squirrels. 

O. F. esquireuJ. 
Squyer, n., squire. O. F. es- 

quier. 
Stable, 71., stable. 0. F. 
Stablissed, p. p., established. 

0. F. establir. 
Stace, Statius. 
Staf, n., staff. A. S. stsef. 
Stage, n., place, position. 0. F. 

estage. 
Stak, v., pref. sing., see Stike. 
Stal, n., stall. A. S. steall. 
Stal, v., pret. sing., see Stele. 
Stalke, n., stalk, piece of straw, 
Staike, v., creep up, move 

stealthily, move slowly. A. S. 

stalcian. 
Stalle, n., dat., see Stal. 
Stampe, v., stamp, crush, strike. 

A. S. stempan. 
Stape, p. p., advanced. A. S. 

stapan. 
Stare, n., starling. A. S. staer. 
Starf, v., pret. sing., see Sterve. 
Stark, adj., strong. A. S. stearc. 
Startling, pres. par tic, starting, 

moving suddenly. 
Stat, n., estate. 0. F. estat. 

See Estaat. 
Statut, n., statute. 0. F, es- 

tatut. 
Staves, n., plu., see Staf. 
Stede, n., place. A. S. 
Stede, n., steed. A. S. steda. 
Stedfast, adj., steadfast. A. S. 

stedefaest. 
Stedfastly, adv., steadfastly. 
Stedfastnesse, n., constancy, 

stability. 
Steel, n., steel. A. S. stel. 
Stele, v., steal, go stealthily. 

A. S. stelan. 
Stellifye, v., transform into a 

star or constellation. 0. F. 

stellifier. 
Steme, v., shine, glow. A. S. 

steman. 
Stente, v., leave off, cease, stop. 

A. S. styntan. See Stinte. 



Stepe, adj., plu., prominent, 

staring. A. S. steap. 
Stere, n., helm, rudder; helms- 
man, pilot. A. S. steora. 
Stere, v., steer, rule. A. S. 

stieran. 
Stere, v., stir, move, excite. A. S. 

styrian. 
Steringe, s., stirring, motion. 

A. S. styrian. 
Sterlinges, n., plu., sterling coins. 
Steme, adj., stern, violent. A, 

S. styme. 
Sterre, n., star, planet. A. S. 

steorra. 
Sterry, adj., starry. 
Stert, n., start, moment. 
Sterte, v., start, go quickly, 

rouse. A. S. styrtan. See 

Stirte. 
Sterve, v., die. A. S. steorfan. 
Stevene, n., voice, sound, lan- 
guage, talk. A. S. stefn /. 
Stewe, n., fish-pond. O. F. estui. 
Stewe, n., small room, brothel. 

0. F. estuve. 
Stewe-dore, n., closet-door. 0. 

F. estuve — A. S. duru. 
Steyre, n., stair, staircase. A, 

S. staeger /. 
Stibom, adj., stubborn. 
Stif, adj., strong. A. S. stif. 
Stike, v., stick, pierce. A. S. 

stician. 
Stikke, n., stick, twig. A. S. 

sticca. 
Stilbon: ordinarily Mercury, hut 

as Chaucer uses the name it is 

an error for Chilon mentioned 

by John of Salisbury. 
StUie, adj., still, mute, silent; 

adv., still. A. S. 
Stinte, v., leave off, cease, stop. 

A. S. styntan. See Stente. 
Stire, v., see Stere. 
Stirte, v., start, go quickly. 

A. S. styrtan. See Sterte. 
Stith, n., anvil. 0. A^. stetSi. 
Stiwardes, n., plu., stewards. 

A. S. stiweard. 
Stix, Styx: a river in the Nether 

World. 
Stod, v., pret. sing., see Stonde. 



490 GLOSSARY 

Stok, n., stock, stump, post. Streite, p. p. as adj., drawn. 

A. S. stocc. Cf. Strecche. 

Stoke, v., stab, thrust. Streme, v., stream. 

Stomble, v., stumble. Streng, n., string. A. S, streng. 

Ston, n., see Stoon. Strenger, adj., compar., stronger. 

Stonde, v., stand, abide by. A. Strengest, adj., superL, strongest. 

S. standan. Strengthe, n., strength, force. 

Stongen, p. p., stung. Fro7n A. S. strengSu. 

Stinge. A. S. stingan. Cf. Strepe, v., strip. A. S. strypan. 

Y-stonge. Strete, n., street, road. A. S, 

Stoon, n., stone, rock, gem. A. strset /. 

S. Stan. Streyne, v., compress, strain, 

Stoor, n., store, stock. 0. F. constrain, hold. 0. F. es- 

estor. streindre. 

Storie, n., history, tale, story. Streyt, adv., see Streight, Streit. 

O. F. estorie. Strike, n., hank. 

Storfen, • v., pret. plu., see Strode, Ralph Strode: a philos- 

Sterve. opher of Chaucer's time, follower 

Stot, n., stallion, horse, cob. of the doctrines of Alhertus 

Stounde, n., hour, time, while. Magnus and Aquinas, and 

A. S. stund /. opponent of Wycliffe (especially 

Stoundemele, at various times, in Wycliffe's doctrine of pre- 

from time to time. A. S. destination). 

stundmselum. Strogelest, v., second person sing., 

Stoupe, v., stoop, droop. A. S. pres. indie, see Strugle. 

stupian. Strond, n., strand, shore. A. S. 

Stout, adj., strong, bold. O. F. strand. 

estout. Stroof, v., pret. sing., see Stryve. 

Strake, v., move, proceed. Strook, n., stroke. 

Stratford atte Bowe, Stratford at Stroyer, n., destroyer. 

Bow: a Benedictine nunnery in Strugle, v., struggle. 

London. Stryf, n., strife. 0. F. estrif. 

Straught, p. p., as adv., straight. Stryve, v., strive. O. F. es^ 

See Strecche. triver. 

Straughte, v., pret., see Strecche. Stubbes, n., plu., stubs, A. S. 

Straunge, adj., strange, foreign, stub. 

difficult, distant. 0. F. es- Studie, n., study, meditation. 

strange. O. F. estudie. 

Straungely, adv., distantly. Studie, v., study, give heed, 

Straw, lakke: See lakke. deliberate. O. F. estudier. 

Strecche, v., stretch, reach, ex- Studye, n., see Studie. 

tend. A. S. streccan. Sturdinesse, n., sternness. 

Stree, n., stiaw. A. S. streaw. Sturdy, adj., stern, cruel, harsh. 

Streem,n., river, current, stream. O. F. estourdi. 

A. S. stream. Style, n., stile. A. S. stigel /. 

Streight, adj., straight; adv., Style, n., style, mode of writing. 

straight, straightway. A. S. 0. F. stile. 

streht. Subgit, n., subjects. 0. F. 

Streighte, v., pret., see Strecche. subget. 

Streit, adj., narrow, strict. A. F. Substaunce, n., substance, that 

estreit. which is substantial, the thing 

Streit, adv., closely. 0. F. es- itself {cf. Accident), the ma- 

treit. jority. O. F. substance. 



GLOSSARY 491 

Subtil, adj., subtle, ingenious, Swerd, n,, sword. A. S. sweord. 

skillful. O. F. Swere, v., swear. A. S. swerian. 

Subtiltee, n., subtlety, specious Swete, adj., sweet. A. S. swete. 

reasoning, trick. O. F. sou- Swete, ?'., sweat, yl . *S. swsetan. 

tilte. Swetnesse, n., sweetness. A. S. 
Successour, 7i., successor, swetness/. 

follower. 0. F. successor. Sweven, n., dream. A. S. 
Suffisaunce, n., sufficiency, swefen. 

enough, competency. 0. F. Sweynte, p. p. as adj., tired 
Suffisaunt, adj., sufficient, able. out, exhausted, slothful. From 

0. F. soufisant. Swenche. .4. S, swencan. 

Suffraunce, n., longsuflfering, pa- Swich, adj., such. A. S. swilc. 

tience. 0. F. sufrance. Swiche sevene, seven times 

Suffraunt, adj., patient, toler- as many. 

ant. A. F. suffrant. Swink, n., labor, toil. A. S. 
Suffre, v., suffer, permit. 0. F. (ge) swine. 

sufrir. Swinke, v., labor, toil. A. S. 
SuflFyse, ?'., suffice, be able. swincan. 

O. F. suffire. Swinker, n., laborer. 

Superfiuitee, n., superfluity, ex- Swogh, n., sough, low noise, mur- 

ccss. 0. /^. superfluite. mur; swoon, state of collapse. 

Supprysed, p. p., surprised. Swollen, p. p., see Swelle. 

From Suppryse. 0. F. sou- Swommen, v., pret. plu., swam, 

prendre. were filled with swimming 

Surcote, n., surcoat, upper coat. things. From Swimme. A. 

0. F. S. swimman. 

Surgerye, n., surgery. 0. F. Swonken, p. p., see Swinke. 

surgerie. Swoor, v., pret. sing., see Swere. 

Suspecioun, n., suspicion. O. F. Swote, adj., sweet. A. S. swot. 

suspecion. Swote, adv., sweetly. A. S. 
Suspect, n., suspicion. L. L, swote. 

suspectus. Swough, n., see Swogh. 

Sustene, v., sustain, support, Swoune, v., swoon, faint. A. S. 

maintain. 0. F. sustenir. swogan. 

Suster, 71., sister. A. S. swuster. Swow, n., see Swogh. 

Sustren, n., phi., see Suster. Swowne, v., see Swoune. 

Sute, n., sec Suyte. Swyn, n., swine, boar. A. S. 
Suwe, p., see Sewe. swin. 

Suyte, n., suit, array, uniform Swythe, adv., quickl}', immedi- 

pattern. O. F. siute. ately. A. S. swi'Se. 

Swal, v., pret. sing., see Swelle. Sy, v., pret. sing., saw. From 
Swalowe, Swalwe, n., swallow. See. A. S. seen. 

.4. S. swealwe. Syde, 7i., side. A. S. side. 

Swappe, n., swoop. Sye, v., sink down. A. S. sigan. 

Swappe, v., strike, dash. Syghes, 7i., see Syk. 

Swapte, v., pret., see Swappe. Syk, adj., sick. A, S. seoc. 
Swartish, adj., darkish, dark. See Seek. 

Swatte, v., pret., see Swete. Syk, n., sigh. 

Swelle, r., swell. ^. *S. swellan. Syke, v., sigh. A. S. sican. 

Swelte, v., die, languish. A. S. Sykliche, adj., sickly, ill. 

sweltan. Syre, ?i., see Sire. 

Swelwe, v., swallow. A. S. Sythe, ?i., time. A. S. si(5. Ofte 

swelgan. sythe, oftentimes. 



492 GLOSSARY 

Telle, v., tell, recount, relate, 
T count. A. S. tellan. 

Tabard, n., a short coat, some- Tembrace, To embrace. 

times sleeveless; the coat of Teme, v., bring. A. S. teman. 

a herald with a coat of arms. Tempestous, adj., tempestuous. 

O. F. A. F. 

Tabard, the Tabard Inn. Temple, n., temple, inn of court. 
Tabernacle, n., tabernacle, O. F. 

shrine. F. Tenbrace, To embrace, see En- 
Table, n., table, tablet. F. brace. 

Table dormant, permanent Tendre, adj., tender. O. F. 

side table. Tables, plu., tables, Tendrely, adv., tenderly. 

the game of "tables" or back- Tendyte, To endyte, see 

gammon. Endyte. 

Tabreyde, To abreyde, see Tene, n., vexation, grief. A. S. 

Abreyde. teona. 

Tabyde, To abyde, see Abyde. Tente, n., tent. 0. F, 

Tacoye, To acoye, see Acoye. Tentifiy, adv., attentively, care- 
Tafifraye, To affraye, see Affraye. fully. 

Taille, n., tally. F. Tercel, adj., male. O. F. 

Tak, v., imper., take. From Tercelet, n., male falcon. O, F. 

Take. A. S. tacan. tiercelet. 

Takel, n., tackle, archery-gear. Terciane, adj., tertian, recur- 
Tale, n., tale, story, enumera- ring every other day. O. F, 

tion. A. S. talu. tiergain. 

Tale, v., tell, talk, speak. A. S. Tere, n., tear. A. S. tear. 

talian. Tere, v., tear. A. S. teran. 

Talent, n., inclination, wish, de- Tereus: husband of Procne and 

sire. 0. F. Philomela. 

Talighte, To alighte, see Alighte. Terme, n., set time, period, set 
Tantale, Tantalus. phrase, limit. O. F. 

Tapicer, n., upholsterer, maker Terme-day, n., day appointed. 

of carpets. O. F. tapicier. O. F. terme — A. S. daeg. 

Tapite, v., cover with tapestry. Termyne, v., determine, express 

0. F. tapissier. in set terms. F. terminer. 

Tappestere, n., female tapster, Tertulan, Tertullian: a Church 

barmaid. A. S. taeppestre. Father (c. 155-c. 222), author 

Tare, n., tare, kind of weed. of treatises on chastity. 

Targe, n., target, shield. 0. F. Tery, adj., teary. A. S. tearig. 

Tarraye, To arraye, see Arayed. Tespye, To espye, see Espye. 

Tars, Tartarye, Tartary. Testif, adj., headstrong. A. F. 

Taryinge, s., tarrying, delay. A. Tewnes, Timis. 

aS^. tergan. Thalighte, Thee alighte, see 
Tas, n., heap. O. F. Alighte. 

Tassaille, To assaille. Thank, n., expression of thanks. 
Tassaye, To assaye, see Assaye. A. S. ;^anc. His thankes, of 
Tassoille, To assoille, see Assoille. his free will, willingly. 

Tast, n., taste, relish for. 0. F. Thanne, adv., then, than. A. S. 
Taveme, n., tavern. 0. F. l?anne. 

Tecches, n., plu., evil qualities, Thapocalips, The Apocalypse. 

defects. O. F. teche. Thaqueintaunce, The aquein- 
Teche, v., teach, instruct, in- taunce, see Aqueyntaunce. 

form. A. S. tsecean. Thar, v., pres. sing., impers., is 



I 



GLOSSARY 493 

necessary, is needful. A. S. Ther-inne, adv., therein. A. S. 

}?urfan. ]?aer — inne. 

Tharivaile, The arivaile, see Ther-oute, adv., out there, out- 

Arivaile. side there. A. S. J?ser — ute. 

Tharray, The array, see Aray. Thesiphone, Tisiphone: a Fury. 

Thascry, The ascry, see Ascry. Thewes, n., habit, natural qual- 
Thassay, The assay, see Assay. ity, virtue. .4. tk J?eaw. 

Thassege, The assege, see As- Thider, adv., thitHbr. A. S. 

sege. J?ider. 

Thaventayle, The aventayle, see Thiderward, adv., thither. 

Aventaille. Thikke, adj., thick. A, S, 
Thavisioun, The avisioun, see J?icce. 

Avisioun. Thikke-herd, adj., thick-haired. 

The, pcrs. pron., thee. Thilke, pron., that same, that. 
Thee, v., prosper, thrive. A» S. A. S. Jjylc. 

J?eon. Thmg, n., thing, fact. A. S, 
Theef, 7i., thief, robber. A. S. J?ing. Make a thing, draw up 

J?eof. a legal document. 

Thembassadours, The embassa- Thinke, v., seem. A. S. J?yncan. 

dours, see Embassadour. Thinne, adj., thin. A. S. ^ynne. 

Then, conj., than. .4. *S'. Jjaenne. Thirle, v., pierce. A. S. Jjyrlian. 

Thencens, The encens, see En- The, pron., plu., those. A. S, 

cens. ])SL. 

Thencrees, The encrees, see Tho, adv., then, at that time. 

Encrees. A. S. J?a. 

Thende, The ende, see Ende. Thogh, co7ij., though. 

Thenke, v., think. .4. S. Thoght, ?i., thought, anxiety. A, 

]7encan. S. J?5ht. 

Thenne, adv., then. See Thanne. Thoghte, v., pret., see Thenke, 
Thennes, adv., thence, from Thinke. 

that place. Tholosan, of Toulouse. 

Thentente, The entente, see Thombe, n., thumb. A. S. 

Entente. Jjuma. 

Thentree, The entree, see Entree. Thonder, n., thunder. A. S. 
Thenvyous, The envyous, see ]?unor. 

Envyous. Thenke, v., thank. A. S. J)an- 
Theodamas, probably Thiodamas cian. 

in the Thebaid iviii, x). Thonour, The honour. 

Theofraste, Theophrastus : dis- Thorgh, prep., through. A, S. 

eiple of Aristotle, author of a J?urh. 

treatise on marriage, of which Thorisoun, The orisoun, sec Ori- 

a fragment is preserved in Je- soun. 

rome's treatise against Jovin- Thorp, n., village. A. S. J>orp. 

ian. See Seint lerome. Thought, n., see Thoght. 

Ther, adv., there, where, where- Thoughte, v., pret., see Thenke, 

fore, wherever. ^4. S. Jjser. Thinke. 

Ther-aboute, adv., concerned Thral, n., thrall, slave, subject. 

with that, about it, round it. A.S.]>T3£\. 

A. S. ]>3bT — abutan. Thral, adj., subject. 

Ther-biforn, adv., beforehand, Thralle, v., subject. 

previously. A. S. J?ser — Thraste, v., pret., see Threste. 

beforan. Thredbar, adj., threadbare. A. 
Therfro, adv., therefrom. S. J?rsed — baer. 



494 GLOSSARY 

Threed, n., thread. A.S.])T8bd. Tiptoon, n., plu., tiptoes. — A. 

Threshfold, n., threshold. A. S. S. ta. 

Jjerscwold. Tissew, n., tissue, 0. F. tissu. 

Thresshe, v., thrash. A, S. Tit, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

)?erscan. indie, see Tyde. 

Threste, v., thrust, push. A. S. Title, n., title, name, pretence. 

]7rsestan. O. F. 

Threte, v., threaten. A. S. To, adv., too. A. S. 

J)reatian. Teas, Thoas. 

Thridde, ord. num., third. A. S. To-bete, v., beat severely. A. S. 

Jjridda. t5 — beatan. 

Thrift, n., success, profit, wel- To-breke, v., break in pieces. 

fare. A. S. to — brecan. 

Thriftily, adv., profitably, care- To-breste, v., burst in twain, 

fully. break in pieces. A. S. to — 

Thrifty, adj., profitable. berstan. 

Thringe, y., press. A. S.]>nngan. To-cleve, v., cleave in twain. 

Thriste, v., thrust. 0. N. J7rysta A. S. to — cleofan. 

Cf. Threste. To-dasshed, p. p., dashed vio- 

Throp, n., see Thorp. lently, much bruised. 

Throstel, n., throstle, song- To-forn, prep., before. A. S. 

thrush. A, S. J>rostle. toforan. 

Throte, n., throat. A. S. J?rotu. Togeder, adv., together. A. S. 

Throwe, n., while, period. A. S. to-gaedere. 

Jjrag /. To-hange, v., hang thoroughly, 

Throwes, n., plu., throes, tor- put to death by hanging. 

ments. A. S. Jjraw. A. S. to — hangian. 

Thrye, adv., thrice. A. S. J>riga. To-hewe, v., hew in twain, cut 

Thryes, adv., thrice. in pieces. A. S. to — heawan. 

Thryve, v., thrive. Toke, v., second pers. sing., pret. 

Thundringe, n., thundering. indie, tookest; pret. plu., took. 

Thurfte, v., pret., see Thar. From Take. A. S. tacan. 

Thurgh, prep., see Thorgh. See Tak. 

Thurgh-darted, p. p., transfixed To-laughe, v., laugh excessively. 

with a dart. A. S. to — hliehhan. 

Thmghfare, n., thoroughfare. Tolle, v., take toll. 

A. S. Jjurh — faru. Tombesteres, n., plu., female 

Thurgh-girt, p. p., pierced tumblers, dancing girls. 

through. To-melte, v., melt utterly. A. S. 

Thurghoute, prep., throughout. to — meltan. 

A. S. J)urh — ute. To-morwe, n., to-morrow. A. 

Thurgh-shoten, p. p., shot S. to — morgen. 

through. A.S.]>UTh. — sceotan. Tonge, 7i., tongue, speech. A. 

Thurste, y., thirst. A. S. J)yr- S. tunge. 

Stan. Tonged, adj., tongued. 

Thwyte, v., whittle, cut up. A. Tonne, n., tun, barrel. A. S. 

S. ]?witan. tunne. 

Tideus, Tydeus. Tonne-greet, adj., great as a tun. 

Tikelnesse, n., ticklishness, in- A, S. tunne — great. 

security, uncertainty. Toon, n., plu., toes. A. S. ta. 

Tikle, v., tickle. To-race, v., tear in pieces. 

Tipet, n., tippet, cape. A. S. Torche, n., torch. 0. F. 

taeppet. To-rende, v., rend in twain, 



GLOSSARY 495 

rend in pieces. A. S. to- Trayse, v., betray. 0. F. trair. 

rendan. Trayteresse, n., traitress. O. F. 
To-rente, v., prct., see To-rende. traitresse. 

Torets, n., plu., rings on the Traytour, n., traitor. O. F. 

collars of dogs. O. F. toret. traitor. 

Torn, w., turn. .4. F. tourn. Trecherye, n., treachery, trick- 
Tome, v., turn. O. F. torner. cry. 0. F. trecherie. 

Tomey, /I., tourney. O.F. toinei. Trade, v., tread. A. S. tredan. 

To-shivered, p. p., broken to Tregetour, 7i., juggler, magician. 

pieces. O. F. tresgeteor. 

To-shrede, v., cut into shreds. Tresor, n., treasure. 0. F. 

A. S. to — screadian. Tresorere, n., treasurer. O. F, 
To-sterte, v., start asunder, tresorier. 

burst. A. S. styrtan. Tresorie, n., treasury. 0. F. 

To-swinke, v., labor greatly. Tresoun, n., treason, treachery. 

A. S. to — swincan. 0. F. traison. 

To-tere, v., tear in pieces, rend. Tresse, n., plait of hair, tress. 

A. S. toteran. O. F. trace. 

Tough, adj., troublesome, per- Tretabla, adj., tractable, docile. 

tinacious, difficult. A. S. toh. F. traitabie. 

Make it tough, be trouble- Trate, v., treat, treat of, tell, 

some, be pertinacious. discourse. O. F. traitiar. 

Tomba, n., tomb. 0. F. Tretee, n., treaty. O. F. traitie. 

Toun, n., town. A. S. tun. Tratis, n., treaty, treatise, ac- 
Tour, n., tower. 0. F. tur. count. A. F. tratiz. 

Tourat, n., turret. O. F. torata. Tretys, adj., graceful, well-pro- 
To-yare, adv., this year. A. S. portioned. O. F. tratis. 

to — gear. ' Trewe, adj., true, honest. A. S. 

Trace, Thrace. treowa. 

Trad, v., pret. sing., see Trede. Trawa, w., truce. A. S. tieow f. 

Traisoun, n., see Tresoun. Trewely, Trewly, adv., truly, 
Traitarya, n., treachcrj\ certainly. A. S. treowlica. 

Tramissana, Tramessan: a il/oor- Traye, adj., three. O. F. trai. 

ish kingdom in Africa. Triacla, n., sovereign remedy. 
Translate, v., translate, change, 0. F. 

F. translatar. Trist, ?i., trust. 

Transmutacioun, Ji., change. F. Trista, n., tryst, station. 0. F, 

transmutation. Trista, v., trust. 

Transmuwe, v., transform. F. Troden, v., pret. pin.; p. p.; see 

transmuer. Treda. 

Trappe, n., trap, snare, trap- Trompa, n., trumpet, trumpeter. 

door. A. S. treppa. O. F. 

Trapped, p. p., furnished with Tronchoun, n., broken shaft of 

trappings. a spear. O. F. tronchon. 

Traunce, n., trance. 0. F. Trona, n., throne. O. F. 

transa. Trotula: this author has not been 
Traunce, v., tramp about. satisfactorily identified. 

Travaile, n., labor, toil. 0. F. Trouble, adj., troubled, dis- 

travaille. turbcd, anxious. O. F. 

Travaile, v., labor. 0. F. tra- Troutha, n., truth, troth. A. S. 

vaillier. treowS /. 

Trays, n., plu., traces. 0. F. Trowe, v., believe, trust. A. S. 

trais. treowian. 



496 



GLOSSARY 



Troyan, Trojan. 

Troyanisshe, Trojan. 

Troye, Troy. 

Trumpe, v., blow the trumpet. 
O. F. tromper. 

Trussed, p. p., packed. O. F. 
trousser. 

Truwe, n., see Trewe. 

Tuel, n., pipe, slender chimney. 
0. F. 

Tukked, p. p., tucked. 

Tullius, M. Tullius Cicero. 

Turkye, Turkey. 

Tumeyinge, s., tournament. O. 
F. torneier. 

Turtel, n., turtle-dove. A. S. 
turtle. 

Twelf, adj., twelve. A. S. twelf. 

Twelf month, 71., twelvemonth, 
year. A. S. twelf — monaS. 

Tweye, adj., two. A. S. twegen. 

Tweyne, adj., twain. A. S. 
twegen. 

Twigges, n., plu., twigs. A. S. 
twig. 

T wight, p. p., twitched, dis- 
traught; Twighte, v., pret., 
twitched. /^ro?n Twicche. A. 
S. twiccian. 

Twinkeling, s., twinkling. A. S. 
twinclian. 

Twinne, v., sever, part, separate. 

Twyes, adv., twice. 

Twyn, n., twine. A. S. twin. 

Twyne, v., twine. 

Tyde, n., time, hour. A, S. 
tid/. 

Tyde, v., befall, happen. A. S. 
tidan. 

Tydinge, n., tiding, piece of 
news. 

Tygre, n., tiger. 0. F. tigre. 

Tyme, n., time. A. S. tima. 

Tyraunt, n., tyrant. 0. F. 
tirant. 

Tythes, n., plu., tithes. A. S. 
teoSa. 

Tytus, Dictys Cretensis: sup- 
posed warrior against Troy 
and author of a history of the 
Trojan war, of which the chief 
extant version is, if genuine, 
a fourth century Latin trans- 



lation, the Ephemeris Belli 
Trojani. 

U 
Unavysed, p. p., unadvised, un- 
aware. A. S. un — aviser. 
Unbodie, v., leave the body. 
Unbokele, v., unbuckle. A. S. 

un — F. bocler. 
Unbrent, p. p., unburnt. A. S. 

un — 0. N. brenna. 
Unbroyden, p. p., unbraided. 

A. S. un — bregdan. 
Uncommitted, p. p., not en- 
trusted to one. A. S. un — 

L. committere. 
Uncouth, adj., strange, foreign. 

A. S. uncuS. 
Undergrowe, p. p. as adj., of 

short stature. A. S. under — 

growan. 
Undern, n.,_ about nine to ten in 

the morning. A. S. 
Undernethe, prep., underneath. 
Understonde, v., understand. A, 

S. understandan. 
Undertake, ?>., undertake, afhrm. 

A. S. under — ^tacan. 
Undo, v., unfold, reveal, un- 
fasten. A. S. undon. 
Unespyed, p. p., undetected. 

A. S. un — espier. 
Unethe, Unethes, adv., scarcely, 

with difficulty. A. S. un — 

ea'Se. 
Unfamous, adj., lost to fame, 

forgotten by fame. A. S. 

un — L. famosus. 
Unfettre, v., unfetter, release. 
Unholsom, adj., aihng, weak. 

A. S. un — hal — sum. 
Unkinde, adj., unnatural, cruel. 

A. S. un — cynde. 
Unkist, adj., unkissed. 
Unknowe, p. p., unknown. A. 

S. un — cnawan. 
Unkonning, adj., unskillful, 

stupid. 
Unkouth, adj., see Uncouth. 
Unmanhod, n., unmanly act. 

A. S. un — man — had. 
Unmerie, adj., sad. A. S. un — 

mirige. 



GLOSSARY 



497 



Unnethe, Unnethes, adv., see 

Unethe. 
Unpinne, v., unpin, unfasten. 
Unreste, n., unrest, restlessness. 

.4. S. un — raest /. 
Unright, ?i., wrong, injury. 
Unsad, adj., unsettled, unsteady, 

fickle. A. S. unsaed. 
Unsely, adj., unhappy, unfor- 
tunate. A. S. unsselig. 
Unshette, v., pret., unlocked; 

p. p., as adj., not shut. A. S. 

un — scyttan. 
Unsittinge, pres. partic. as adj., 

unfit. .4. S. un — sittan. 
Unswelle, v., decrease in ful- 
ness, subside. A. S. un — 

swellan. 
Unswete, adj., bitter. A. S. 

un — swete. 
Unteyd, p. p., untied. A. S. 

untigan. 
Unthank, n., want of thanks, 

the reverse of thanks. A. S. 

unjjanc. 
Unthrift, n., extravagance, folly. 
Unthrifty, adj., profitless. 
Untressed, adj., not done up 

into tresses, unarranged. 
Untrewe, adj., untrue, false; 

adv., untruly. A . S. untreowe. 
Untrouthe, n., untruth, deceit, 

faithlessness. A. S. untre- 

ow?)/. 
Unwar, adj., unaware; adv., un- 
expectedly. .4. S. unwaer. 
Unwist, adj., unknown, unwit- 
ting. 
Unwitingly, adv., unwittingly. 
Unwrye, v., uncover, reveal. 

A. S. unwreon. 
Unyolden, p. p., without having 

yielded. A. S. un — gieldan. 
Up, prep., on, upon. A. S. 
Up-born, p. p., upborne, valued. 

A. S. up — beran. 
Up-bounde, p. p., bound up. 

A. S. up — bindan. 
Up-breyde, v., upbraid, reproach. 

A. S. up — bregdan. 
Up-caste, v., cast up, lift up. 

A. S. up— 0. N. kasta. 
Up-haf, v., pret. sii^g., uplifted. 



From Up-heve. A. S. up — 

hebban. 
Upright, adv., upright, lying with 

the face upward. A. S. up- 

riht. 
Up-rist, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

indie, rises up. A. S. up — 

risan. 
Up-rist, n., up- rising. 
Upryght, adv., see Upright. 
Up-so-doun, adv., upside down. 
Upsterte, Upstirte, v., pret., 

started up, arose. A. S. 

up — styrtan. 
Up-yaf, v., pret. sing., yielded 

up, gave. From Up-yeve. 

A. S. up — giefan. 
Up-yolden, p. p., yielded . up. 

From Up-yelde. .4. S. up — 

gieldan. 
Ume, n., urn. L. uma. 
Usage, n., usage, custom, habit. 

0. F. 
Usaunce, n., custom. 0. F. 

usance. 
Usure, n., usury. F. 
Uttereste, adj.] uttermost. 



Vacacioun, r?., leisure, spare 
time. 0. F. vacation. 

Vache, n., cow, beast. 0. F. 

Vache, Sir Philip la Vache: a 
distinguished contemporary of 
Chaucer, — soldier, courtier, 
Knight of the Garter, keeper of 
the royal manor and park of 
Woodstock and of Chiltern, 
married to Elizabeth Clifford 
(daughter of Sir Lewis Clifford). 

Valence: Valence 7iear Lyons, 
France; or possibly a reference 
to Valenciennes lace. 

Valerie : a reference to the Medieval 
Latin treatise "De non du- 
cenda ilt ore" ichich was en- 
titled Epistola Valerii ad Ru- 
finum. 

Valeye, n., valley. 0. F. valee. 

Vanisshinge, s., vanishing, 0. 
F. vanir. 

Vanitee, n., vanity, folly. 0. F. 
vanite. 



498 



GLOSSARY 



Variacioun, n., variation, differ- 
ence. 0. F. variacion. 

Varie, v., vary, change, shift. 
O. F. varier. 

Vasselage, n., prowess. 0. F. 

Vavasour, n., sub- vassal, next 
in dignity to a baron. 0. F. 
vavassour. 

Venerye, n., hunting. 0. F. 
venerie. 

Venim, n., venom, poison. 0. F, 

Venimous, adj., venomous, poi- 
sonous. A. F. 

Venyse, Venice. 

Ver, n.,the spring. L. 

Verdit, n., verdict. O. F. 

Vermine, Vermyne, n., vermin. 
A. F. vermine/. 

Vernicle, n., vernicle: a small 
copy of the picture of Christ 
which was 7niracnloushj im- 
printed upon the handkerchief 
of Saint Veronica. O. F. 

Verray, Verrey, adj., very, true. 
O. F. verai. 

Verrayly, adv., verily, truly. 

Vers, n., verse, line. A. S. fers; 
0. F. vers. 

Vertu, n., virtue, power. A. F. 

Vertuous, adj., virtuous. 0. F. 

Vese, n., rush. 

Vesulus, Monte Vise. 

Veyl, n., veil. A. F. 

Veyn, adj., vain, empty. 0. F. 

Veyne, n., vein. 0. F. veine. 

Viage, n., voyage, travel, jour- 
ney. 0. F. 

Vicair, n., vicar, deputy. A. F. 
vicare. 

Vicious, adj., wicked. 0. F. 

Victorie, n., victory. 0. F. 

Vigile, n., vigil, wake. A. F. 

Vigilies, n., plu., vigils, evening 
meetings on the eve of a 
festival. L. vigilia. 

Vileinye, n., villainy, wrong, 
shameful speech. 0. F. vil- 
einie. 

Virgile, Virgilius, Vergil. 

Virginitee, n., virginity. A, F. 
virginite. 

Virgyle, see Virgile. 

Visitaciouns, n., plu., visits. A. F. 



Visyte, v., visit. 0. F. visiter. 

Vitaille, n., victuals, provisions. 
0. F. 

Vols, n., see Voys. 

Vouche sauf, v., vouchsafe, grant, 
permit. 0. F. vochier — sauf. 

Voyde, v., get rid of, expel, de- 
part from. 0. F. voidier. 

Voys, n., voice, report. 0. F, 
vois. 

Vulcano, Vulcanus, Vulcan. 

Vyce, n., fault, error. A. F. 

Vyne, n., vine. 0. F. vine. 

W 

Waast, n., waist. 

Wade: son of Weyland in Teu- 
tonic mythology. Wade and 
his boat are referred to in the 
Merchant's Tale, I. 1424. 

Wade, v., wade, go, pass. A. S. 
wadan. 

Wafereres, n., plu., makers of 
wafer-cakes, confectioners. 

Waite, v., wait, attend, watch. 
O. F. waitier. 

Wake, v., be awake, lie awake, 
watch, awake. A. S. wacan. 

Wake-pleyes, n., plu., funeral 
games. — A. S. plega. 

Waker, adj., vigilant. A. S. 
wacor. 

Wakned, p.p., awakened. A. S. 
wgecnan. 

Wal, n., wall. A. S. weall. 

Walakye, Wallachia: part of 
Rou7nania. 

Walsh-note, n., walnut. A. S. 
wealhhnutu. 

Walwe, v., wallow, roll. A. S. 
wealwian. 

Wanhope, n., despair. A. S. 
wan — hopa. 

Wanie, v., wane. A. S. wanian. 

Wante, v., be wanting, be ab- 
sent, fail, lack. O. A^. vanta. 

Wantoun, adj., unrestrained, 
wanton. 

Wantownesse, n., wantonness, 
willfulness. 

War, adj., prudent, discreet, cau- 
tious. A. S. waer. 

Wardein, n., warden. 0. F. 



GLOSSARY 



499 



Ware, v., beware. A. S. warian. 
Warente, v., warrant, protect . 

0. F. warantir. 
Warisshe, v., cure, recover. 0. 

F. warir. 
Warly, adv., warily. 
Waryce, v., see Warisshe. 
Wasshe, v., wash. .4. S. wascan. 
Wast, n., waste. 0. F. 
Waste, adj., plu., wasted, par- 
tially destroyed. O. F. wast. 
Wastei-breed, n., cake-bread, 

bread of the finest quality. 

O. F. wastel — A. S. bread. 
Watering, n., watering-place (for 

horses) . 
Waterlees, adj., without water. 

A. S. waeterleas. 
Wawe, n., wave. 
Waxe, v., wax, grow. A. S. 

weaxan. 
Wayk, adj., weak. 0. N. veikr. 
Wayke, v., weaken, lessen. 
Wayle, v., wail. 
Waymentinge, s., lamentation. 

0. F. waimenter. 
Wayte, v., see Waite. 
Webbe, n., weaver. .4. S. 

webba. 
Wedde, ??., dat., pledge. A. S, 

wedd. 
Wede, n., weed, robe. A. S. 

waede. 
Weder, n., weather, storm. A. 

S. 
Wedlok, n., wedlock. A. S. 

wed-lac. 
Weel, adv., well. A. S. wel. 

See Wel. 
Weep, v., pret. sing., see Wepe. 
Wel, ar//.., well. A.S. See Weel. 
Welawey, inter j., wellaway! alas! 
Welcome, adj., welcome. A. S. 

wilcuma. 
Weldy, adj., wieldy, active. 
Wele, 71., weal, happiness, pros- 
perity. A. S. wela. 
Welfaringe, pres. partic. as adj., 

thriving, prosperous. A. S. 

wel — far an. 
Welk, v., pret. sing., walked. 

From Walke. .4. S. wealcan. 
Welked, p. p., withered. 



Welken, n., welkin, heaven, sky. 

,4. S. wolcen. 
Welle, n., well, source, spring. 

.4. S. wella. 
Welle-stremes, n., plu., well- 
springs. A. S. wella — stream. 
Wende, v., go, pass. A. S. 

wendan. 
Wene, n., expectation, doubt. 

A. S. wen/. 
Wene, v., ween, suppose, con- 
sider. A. S. wenan. 
Wenged, adj., winged. 
Went, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

indie.; p. p.; see Wende. 
Wente, v., pret., see Wende. 
Wente, n., turn, path, passage. 
Wepe, v., weep. A. S. wepan. 
Wepen, n., weapon. A. S. wa- 

pen. 
Wer, n., doubt, distress. 
Werbul, 7i., tune. 
Werche, v., work, perform, make. 

A. S. wyrcan. 
Were, n., weir. A. S. wer. 
Were, v., wear. .4. ^S. werian. 
Were, v., defend. A. S. werian. 
Werk, 71., work, act. ^.aS. were. 
Werke, v., see Werche. 
Weme, ?'., refuse, warn ofT. 

,4. S. wyman. 
Werre, 7i., war, tumult. A. S. 
Werreye, r., make war. A. F, 

werreier. 
Wers, adj., adv., compar., worse. 

A. S. wyrsa. 
Werste, adj., superl., worst. 

.4. *S'. wyrst. 
Werte, 7?., wart. A. S. wearte. 
Wery, adj., weary. A. S. we rig. 
Wesh, Wessh, v., pret. sing., see 

Wasshe. 
Weste, P., turn to the west, 

draw near to the west. 
Westre, v., go to the west. 
Wete, adj., wet. A. S. wset. 
Wex, n., wax. A. S. weax. 
Wex, v., pret. sing., see Waxe. 
Wexe, v., see Waxe. 
Wey, Ji., way. A. S. weg. 
Weye, v., weigh. A. S. wegan. 
Weylaway, Weylawey, interj., see 

Welawey. 



500 



GLOSSARY 



Weymentinge, s., see Way- 

mentinge. 
Weyve, v., waive, neglect, put 

aside. 0. F. weiver. 
Whan, afiy,, when. A.*S. hwanne. 
Whenne, adv., whence. A. S. 

hwanon. 
Wher, ady., where. ^.*S. hwser. 
Wher, contracted form of Whether. 
Wher-as, adv., where that, where. 
Wherfore, adv., conj., ..^s-here- 

fore. A. S. hwser — fore. 
Wherin, adv., wherein, in which. 
Wher-so, adv., whether, where- 
soever. 
Wher-through, adv., by means 

of which. 
Wherto, adv., for what purpose, 

why. 
Whete, n., wheat. A. S, hwsete. 
Whetston, n., whet-stone. A. S. 

hwetstan. 
Whette, p. p., plu., whetted. 

A. S. hwettan. 
Whider, adv., whither. A. S. 

hwider. 
Whippe, n., whip. 
Whippeltree, n., cornel-tree or 

dogwood. 
Whistelinge, s., whistling sound. 

A. S. hwistlian. 
Who-so, pron., whoever. 
Whyl, conj., while. A. S. hwil. 
Whyle, n., while, time. A. S. 

hwil /. 
Whyles, n., gen. sing, as adv., see 

Whyle. 
Whylom, adv., once, formerly. 
Whyt, adj., white. A. S. hwit, 
Whyte, v., whiten, grow white. 
Whytter, adj., compar., see Whyt. 
Widwe, n., widow. A.>S. widuwe. 
Wierdes, n., plu., fates. A. S. 

wyrd. 
Wight, n., person, creature, man. 

A.S.wM. 
Wighte, n., weight. A. S. wiht 

/. (?) 
Wike, n., see Wouke. 
Wikke, adj., evil, wicked, bad. 
Wikkedly, adv., wickedly. 
Wikkednesse, n., wickedness. 
Wil, n., see Wille. 



Wil, v., first and third pers. sing., 

pres. indie, will. A. S. willan. 

See Wol. 
Wilfully, adv., willingly, of free 

will, purposely. 
Wille, n., own accord, will, 

desire. A. S. will; willa. 
Wilne, v., desire, wish. A. S. 

wilnian. 
Wilow, n., willow-tree. A. S. 

welig. 
Wiltow, v., pron., second pres. 

sing., pres. indie, wilt thou. 

See Wil. 
Wimpel, n., wimple; a covering 

for the head, gathered round 

it and plaited under the chin. 

A.S. 
Wind-melle, n., wind-mill. A. 

S. wind — myln. 
Windowe, n., window. 0. A^. 

vindauga. 
Winke, v., wink, shut the eyes, 

fall asleep. A. S. wincian. 
Winne, v., win, gain, attain to. 

A. S. winnan. 
Winning, s., gain, profit. 
Wirche, v., see Werche. 
Wis, adv., certainly, surely. A. 

S. wiss. 
Wisly, adv., certainly, surely. A. 

S. wisslice. 
Wisse, v., instruct, guide. A. S. 

wissian. 
Wisshe, v., wish. A. S. wyscan. 
Wist, p. p.; Wiste, v., pret.; see 

Wite. 
Wit, n., reason, understanding, 

intelhgence. A. S. 
Wite, v., know, wit. A. S. witan. 
Withholde, v., retain, shut up. 

A. S. wis — ^healdan. 
With-inne, adv., within. A. S. 

wiSinnan. 
Withoute, Withouten, adv., prep., 

without. A. S. wiSutan. 
Withseye, v., contradict, gain- 
say. A. S. wiSsecgan. 
Witinge, s., knowledge. See 

Wite. A. S. witan. 
Wlatsom, adj., loathsome, hei- 
nous. A. S. wl^etta — sum. 
Wo, n., woe. A. S. wa. 



GLOSSARY 



iOl 



Wode, n., wood. A. S. wudu. 
Wode-binde, n., woodbine. A. 

S. wudubinde. 
Wode-craft, n., woodcraft. A. 

S. wudu — craeft. 
Wodnesse, n., see Woodnesse. 
Wol, v., fii\^t and third pers. sing., 

pres. indie, will, desire. A.S. 

willan. See Wil. 
Wolde, v., pret., see Wol. 
Wolle, n., wool. A. S. wulle. 
Woln, v., pres. plu., see Wol. 
Wombe, n., belly. A. S. womb 

f. 
Womman, ii., woman. A. S. 

wifman. 
Wommanhede, n., womanhood. 

A. S. wifman — had. 
Wommanliche, adj., womanly. 

A. S. wifman — lice. 
Wommannisshe, adj., plu., wom- 
anish. A. S. wifman — isc. 
Wonder, adj., wonderful; adv., 

wondrously. A. S. wundor. 
Wonderly, adv., wondrously, 

strangely. 
Wondre, \k, wonder. A. S. 

wundrian. 
Wone, 71., custom, usage. A. S. 

gewuna. 
Wone, v., dwell, inhabit. A. S. 

wunian. 
Woning, s., habitation, house. 

A. S. wunung. 
Wood, adj., mad, raving. A. S. 

wod. 
Woodly, adv., madly. 
Woodnesse, n., madness, rage. 

A. S. wodness /. 
Wook, v., pret. sing., see Wake. 
Woon, n., resource, retreat, 

shelter, dwelling. 
Woot, v., first pers. sing., pres. 

indie, see Wite. 
Worcheth, v., third pers. sing., 

pres. indie, see Werche. 
Worching, s., working, influ- 
ence. See Worcheth. 
Word, n., word. A. S. 
Word and ende, beginning and 
end. A. S. ord. See Ende. 
Worm, n., worm, snake. A. S. 
wunn. 



Worm-foul, n., birds which eat 

worms. A. *S. wurm — fugol. 
Worship, 71., praise, honor, dig- 
nity. A. S. weorSscipe. 
Worshipe, v., reverence, respect. 
Worshipful, adj., respected, 

worthy of honor. 
Wortes, n., plu., herbs. A. S. 

wyrt. 
Worthe, v., become, be. A. S. 

weor'San. 
Worthinesse, 7i., worth, worthi- 
ness. 
Wost, v., second pers. sing., pres. 

indie., see Wite. 
Wostow, v., j^ron., second pers. 

sing., pres. indie., see Wite. 
Wot, v., first pers. sing., pres. 

indie., see Wite. 
Wouke, n., week. A. S. wucu. 
Wounde, n., wound, plague. 

.4. *S'. wund /. 
Wowe, v., woo. A. S. wogian. 
Woxen, ]). p., see Waxe. 
Wrappe, v., wrap, cover. 
Wrastling, s., wrestling. A. S. 

wrastlian. 
Wrathe, v., render angry. A. S. 

gewraSian. 
Wratthe, n., anger, wrath. A. 

S. wraeSSo. 
Wratthed, p. p., see Wrathe. 
Wrecche, n., WTetch, sorrowful 

creature. A. S. wrecca. 
Wrecche, adj., wretched. 
Wreche, 7i., vengeance, punish- 
ment. A. S. wraec /. 
Wree, v., cover, clothe. A. S. 

wreon. 
Wreeth,n., wreath. A.»S. wrse'5. 
Wreke, v., wreak, avenge. A. 

S. wrecan. 
Wreker, n., avenger. 
Wreste, v., constrain, force. 

A. S. wrsestan. 
Wreye, ?'., bewray, reveal. ^.*S. 

wregan. 
Wrighte, n., workman. A. S. 

wyrhta. 
Wringe, v., wring, squeeze, force. 

.4. *S. wringan. 
Writ, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

indie., see Wryte. 



502 



GLOSSARY 



Wroght, p. p.; Wroghte, v., pret., 

see Werche. 
Wroken, p. p., see Wreke. 
Wrong, n., wrong. A. S. wrang. 

Had wrong, was wrong, 
Wroot, v., prct. sing., see Wryte. 
Wrooth, adj., wroth, angry. 

A. S. wra3. 
Wrought, p. p.; Wroughte, v., 

pret., see Werche. 
Wrye, v., cover, clothe, hide. 

A. S. wreon. See Wree. 
Wrye, v., turn aside, turn, go. 

A. S. wrigian. 
Wryte, v., write. A. S. writan. 
Wryting, n., writing. A. S. 

writing. 
Wyd, adj., wide. A. S, wid. 
Wyde, adu., widely, far. A. S. 

wide. 
Wjrf, n., woman, wife. A.S.vnf. 
Wyfly, adv., womanly, wife-like. 

A. S. wiflic. 
Wyke, n., see Wouke. 
Wyle, n., wile, plot, guile. 
Wyn, n., wine. A. S. win. 
Wyped, v., pret., wiped. From 

Wype. A. S. wipian. 
Wyr, n., wire. A. S. wir. 
Wys, adj., wise, prudent. A. S, 

wis. Make it wys, make it a 

subject for dehberation, hesi- 
tate. 
Wyse, n., way, manner. A. S. 

wise. 
Wysly, adv., wisely. 
Wyte, n., blame, reproach. A. 

S. wite. 
Wyte, v., blame, reproach. A. 

S. witan. 
Wyve, v., wive, marry. A. S. 

wifian. 
Wyves, n., gen., see Wyf. 



Yaf, v., pret. sing., see Yeve. 
Yate, n., gate. A. S. geat. 
Yave, v., pret., see Yeve. 
Y-bathed, p. p., bathed. A. S, 

baSian. 
Y-been, p. p., been. See Ben. 
Y-beten, p. p., beaten, forged. 

See Bete. 



Y-blent, p. p., blinded. See 

Blende. 
Y-blowe, p. p., blown. A. S, 

blawan. 
Y-boren, p. p., born. See Bere. 
Y-bought, p. p., bought. See 

Beye. 
Y-bounden, p. p., bound. From 

Binde. A. S. bindan. 
Y-brend, Y-brent, p. p., burnt. 

See Brenne. 
Y-broght, p. p., brought. See 

Broght. 
Y-broken, p. p., broken. See 

Breke. 
Y-buried, p. p., buried. A.. S. 

byrgan. 
Y-caried, p. p., carried. F, 

charrier. 
Y-chaped, p. p., furnished with 

chapes or metal caps (which 

were placed at the end of the 

sheath). 
Y-cheyned, p. p., chained. 
Y-clenched, p. p., clinched, riv- 
eted. A. S. clencan. 
Y-cleped, p. p., called, named. 

A. S. cleopian. 
Y-closed, p. p., closed. 
Y-clothed, p. p., clothed. A. S, 

claSian. 
Y-comen, p. p., come. See 

Com. 
Y-corven, p. p., cut. See Kerve. 
Y-coyned, p. p., coined. O. F. 

coignier. 
Y-crammed, p. p., crammed. 

A. S. crammian. 
Y-crased, p. p., cracked, broken. 
Y-darted, p. p., pierced with a 

dart. 
Ydel, adj., idle, empty, vain. 

A. S. idel. 
Ydelly, adv., idly, 
Ydelnesse, n., idleness. A. S, 

idelness /. 
Y-doon, p. p., done. See Do. 
Y-drawe, 79. p., drawn. See 

Drow. 
Y-dressed, p. p., dressed, ar- 
ranged. See Dresse. 
Y-driven, p. p., driven. See 

Dryve. 



GLOSSARY 



503 



Y-dropped, p. p., covered with 

drops. A. S. dropan. 
Ye, n., eye. A. S. cage. 
Ye, adv., yea. 
Yeddinges, 7i., plu., songs. A. S. 

geddung /. 
Yede, v., pret., walked, went. A. 

S. eode. 
Yeer, ?i., year. ^.*S. gear. 
Yef, v., imper. sing., see Yeve. 
Yelde, v., yield, pav. A.S. gildan. 
Yeldhalle, 7*, guild-hall. A.S. 

gield — heall /. 
Yelding, s., produce. A. S. 

gildan. 
Yelleden, v., pret. plu., yelled. 

From YeWe. A.S. giellan. 
Yelownesse, n., yellowness. 
Yelpe, v., boast, prate. A. S. 

gilpan. 
Yelt, v., third pers. sing., pres. 

indie, see Yelde. 
Yelwe, adj., yellow. A. S. geolu. 
Yeman, n., yeoman. 
Yemanly, adv., in a yeomanlike 

manner. 
Yen, ?i., plu., see Ye. 
Yerd, n., j^ard, garden. A. S. 

geard. 
Yerde, n., rod, stick. A. S. 

gerd /. 
Yere, n., dat., see Yeer. 
Yeme, adj., eager, brisk, lively. 

A. S. geom. 
Yeme, adv., eagerly, quickly, 

soon. A. S. geome. 
Yeme, v., yearn for, desire. 

A. S. gyrnan. 
Yeve, v., give. A. S. giefan. See 

Yive. 
Y-fallen, p.p., fallen. See Falle. 
Y-faren, p. p., gone. See Fare. 
Y-fere, adv., together. 
Y-fetered, p. p., fettered. A. S. 

feterian. 
Y-feyned, p.p., feigned, invented, 

feigned to be done, pretended. 

See Feyne. 
Y-finde, v., find. A.S. gefindan. 
Y-folowed, p. p., followed. See 

Folwe. 
Y-formed, p. p., formed. F. 

former. 



Y-fostred, p. p., fostered. See 

Fostre. 
Y-founde, p. p., see Y-finde. 
Y-founded, p.p., founded, based. 

F. fonder. 
Y-glased, p. p., glazed. 
Y-goon, p. p., gone. See Goon. 
Y-graunted, p. p., granted. See 

Graunte. 
Y-grave, p. p., dug up, cut, 

engraved, buried. See Grave. 
Y-grounde, p. p., ground, sharp- 
ened. See Grint. 
Y-grounded, p. p., grounded. 
Y-halowed, p. p., view-hallooed. 

0. F. halloer. 
Y-hed, p. p., hidden. See Hyde. 
Y-hent, p. p., seized, caught. 

See Hente. 
Y-here, v., hear. A. S. gehyran. 
Y-heried, p. p., praised. A. S. 

geherian. 
Y-hurt, p. p., hurt. 
Y-hight, p. p., called. See Hote. 
Y-holde, p. p., held, esteemed, 

restrained. See Holde. 
Y-iaped, p. p., jested. See lape. 
Yif, conj., if. A. S. gif. 
Yif, v., imper. sing., see Yive. 
Yifte, ??., gift. A.S.g'dtf. 
Yis, yes (emj)hatic). A. S. gise. 
Yit, adv., yet, nevertheless. A. 

S. giet. 
Yive, v., give. A. S. giefan. 

See Yeve. 
Y-kist, p. p., kissed. A. S. 

cyssan. See Kesse. 
Y-knowe, v., know, recognize. 

A. S. gecnawan. 
Y-korven, p. p., cut. See Kerve. 
Y-lad, p. p., led. See Lede. 
Y-laft, p. p., left. See Leve. 
Y-liche, adj., plu., see Y-lyk. 
Y-liche, adv., alike, similarly. 

A. S. gelice. See Y-lyke. 
Y-lissed, p. p., eased. See Lisse. 
Y-lived, p. p., lived. A, S. 

libban. 
Y-logged, p. p., lodged. 0. F. 

logier. 
Y-lorn, p. p., lost. A. S, leosan. 
Y-loved, p. p., loved. A. S. 

lufian. 



504 



GLOSSARY 



Y-lyk, adj., like, alike. A. S. 

gelic. See Y-liche. 
Y-lyke, adv., alike, equally. A. 

S. gelice. See Y-liche. 
Y-maad, p. p., made, caused. 

See Make, Y-maked. 
Ymageries, n., plu., images, 

carved work. 0. F. im.agerie. 
Y-maked, p. p., made. See 

Make, Y-maad. 
Y-marked, p. p., marked. A. S. 

mearcian. 
Y-ment, p. p., intended. See 

Mene. 
Y-met, p. p., met. See Mete. 
Y-meynd, p. p., mixed, mingled. 

From Menge. A. S. mengan. 
Y-mused, p. p., mused, re- 
flected. See Muse. 
Y-nogh, adj., enough, sufficient; 

adv., enough, sufficiently. A. 

S. genoh. 
Y-nome, p. p., caught, overcome. 

From Nime. A. S. niman. 

See Nome. 
Y-norisshed, p. p., educated, 

nurtured. O. F. norir. 
Yok, n., yoke. A. S. geoc. 
Yolden, p. p., see Yelde. 
Yolle, v., yell, cry out. 
Yond, adv., yonder. A. S, 

geond. 
Yong, adj., young. A. S. geong. 
Yore, adv., formerly, of old. 

A. S. geara. 
Youling, s., howling, loud lam- 
entation. 
Youthe, n,, youth. A. S. geoguS 

/. 
Yow, pron., dat., accus., you. 

A. S. eow {dat., accus., of ge). 
Y-payed, p. p., paid. See Paye. 
Ypermistre, Hypermnestra: Da- 

naus's daughter, saved her hus- 
band's life. 

Y-pleyned, p. p., complained. 
See Pleyne. 

Y-pleynted, p. p., full of com- 
plaint. 

Ypocras, Hippocrates: a Greek 
physician of the fifth century 

B. C. 

Ypocras, n., a kind of cordial. 



Y-prayed, p. p., invited. See 

Preye. 
Y-preised, p. p., praised. See 

Preise. 
Y-preved, p. p., proved. See 

Preve. 
Y-punisshed, p. p., punished. 

F. punir. 
Y-raft, p. p., bereft, snatched 

away. See Reve. 
Yre, n., ire, anger. F. ire. 
Y-red, p. p., read. See Rede. 
Yren, n., iron. A, S. iren. 
Y-rent, p. p., torn, taken. A. S. 

rendan. 
Y-ronge, p. p., rung. A. S. 

hringan. 
Y-ronne, p. p., run, run together. 

A. S. rinnan. See Renne. 
Y-rouned, p. p., whispered. See 

Roune. 
Y-sayd, p. p., said. See Seye. 
Yse, n., dat., ice. A. S. is. 
Y-see, v., see, behold. A. S. 

geseon. 
Y-sene, adj., visible. A.. S. 

gesene. See Sene. 
Y-sent, p. p., sent. A. S. sendan. 
Y-served, p. p., served. O. F. 

servir. 
Y-set, p. p., set, placed. A. S, 

settan. 
Y-seye, p. p., see Y-see. 
Y-seyled, p. p., sailed. A. S. 

segiian. 
Y-shapen, p. p., prepared. See 

Shape. 
Y-shave, p. p., shaven. A. S. 

sceafan. 
Y-shette, p. p., plu., shut. See 

Shette. 
Y-shewed, p. p., shown. See 

Shewe. 
Y-shorn, p. p., shorn. From 

Shere. A. S. sceran. 
Y-shriven, p. p., shriven. A. S. 

serif an. 
Ysiphile, Hypsipyle: loved and 

deserted by Jason. 
Y-slawe, Y-slayn, p. p., slain. 

See Slee. 
Y-songe, p. p., sung. A. S, 

singan. 



GLOSSARY 



505 



Y-sought, p. p., sought. See 

Seke. 
Y-sowen, p. p., sown. See Sowe. 
Y-sprad, p. p., spread. See 

Sprede. Cf. Sprad. 
Y-spreynd, p. p., sprinkled. See 

Springe (weak). Cf. Spreynd. 
Y-spronge, p. p., spruno;, shot 

out, divulged. See Springe 

(strong). Cf. Spronge. 
Y-stalled, p. p., installed. 
Y-stiked, p. p., stuck, stabbed. 

See Stike. 
Y-stonde, p. p., stood, been. 

See Stonde. 
Y-stonge, p. p., stung. See 

Stongen. 
Y-storve, p. p., dead. Sec Sterve. 
Y-suffred, p. p., suffered. 0. F. 

sufrir. 
Y- sworn, p. p., sworn. See 

swere. 
Y-take, p. p., taken. See Tak. 
Y-taught, p. p., taught. See 

Teche. 
Y-thee, v., thrive. A. S. gejjeon. 
Y-thewed, p. p., disposed, man- 
nered. 
Y-thonked, p. p., thanked. See 

Thonke. 
Y-throwe, 2^. P-, thrown. A. S. 

J>rawan. 
Y-tressed, p. p., plaited in tresses. 
Y-tumed, p. p., turned. A, S. 

tiimian. 



Yve, n., see Erbe. 

Yvel, adj., evil, ill. A. S. yfel. 

Yvel, adv., evilly, ill. A. S. 

yfele. 
Yvoire, n., ivory. 0. F. ivoire. 
Y-war, adj., aware. A. S. 

gewaer. 
Y-wamed, p. p., warned. A. S, 

wamian. See Werne. 
Y- waxen, p. p., grown, become. 

See Waxe. 
Y-wedded, ]). p., wedded. A. 

S. weddian. 
Y-went, p.p., gone. See Wende. 
Y-wimpled, p. p., provided with 

a wimple. 
Y-wis, adv., certainly, truly. 

A. S. gewis. 
Y-wonne, p. p., gained, won. 

See Winne. 
Y-writen, p. p., written. See 

Wryte. 
Y-wroght, p. p., wrought, made. 

See Werche. Cf. Wroght. 
Y-wroken, p. p., avenged. See 

Wreke. Cf. Wroken. 
Y-wryen, p. p., hidden. See 

Wrye. 
Y-yive, 7;. p., given. See Yive. 



Zanzis, Zeuxis: a Greek painter 

of about 420- JQO B. C. 
Zeles, n., plu., zeal. F. zele. 
Zephirus, Zephyr: the west wind. 



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